Hope In Death
by weloveyoubeatles16
Summary: NOT ATU! Julia is a 17 year old girl who was diagnosed with cancer, and she will have to leave her sisters and her best friend, Julian. But when she arrives, she will befriend a few certain Beatles and possibly fall in love! Maybe the afterlife won't be so bad. Rated M for a couple of curse words here and there.
1. Chapter 1

I slowly walked up to the front of the classroom and turned around to face my fellow classmates.

"Julia has an announcement she would like to make for the rest of the class," said my teacher.

The class laughed and a popular kid shouted, "No one cares!" I swiftly glanced at the boy, and then I sat back down.

It's sad to know that no one cares I will be dead in 5 months from cancer.


	2. Chapter 2

Hi, I'm Julia. Don't mind the baldness, I just have cancer. No, too blunt.

Hi, I'm Julia. You're probably thinking that I idolize Britney Spears, but I actually just have cancer so don't worry. Nah, too negative.

Ugh. Why did my mom have to insist on me getting chemotherapy? She knew it wasn't going to make any difference, but of course she insisted. So basically she is wasting thousands of dollars and gas and all for what? To make me bald. I literally pray to God every night to give me hair in the afterlife.

In a weird way, having cancer was a huge relief. While everyone else was stressing and complaining about SAT's, ACT's, and college visits, I had nothing to worry about. Except death, of course.

Last year in July, I was diagnosed with cancer and the doctors said I had one year to live. Other than that, er – rather large bump in the road, nothing has changed. I went to school for my junior year, took the PSAT's, and studied for midterms. I did the fall drama and played in the jazz band. Normal stuff that every normal teen does. Heck, I even got my driver's license.

But unfortunately, I wasn't any normal teenager.

When I got home from school, my mom gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Last year, I wouldn't even get half a glance from her when I walked into the house. My stupid excuse of a mother rarely showed any affection; she's probably hugged me a total of two times in my entire life. I bet she just feels guilty after all this time and this is just out of sympathy.

My dad was the exact opposite. He was such a jovial figure, always cracking jokes and giving me good advice. He died when I was 13, from getting hit by a stupid drunk driver.

Honestly, there are only 3 people I will miss when I leave: My two little sisters, Lucy and Maria, and my best friend, Julian. Lucy and Maria are twins, and they are 7 years old. I love them to death, and they always cheer me up when I feel depressed (that is if The Beatles can't do the job). I was surprised at how well they took the unfortunate news about me, though that could've just been because they were too young to understand.

Julian has been my best friend since we were about 3 years old, when my family moved onto the same street as his family. One day, I had been playing outside when I tripped over a rock and fell. Julian had been playing outside next door, and he ran over to me and helped me up. Ever since then, we've been inseparable.

When I told him that I had cancer, he just hugged me. He didn't even cry. I think he was trying to stay strong for me, because he knew I needed to be comforted. Always putting others first, that one.

After doing my math homework, I decided to go over to his house. I opened my window and yelled out, "Hey Julian, you there?" Our houses are so close together hat if he's in his room, he can hear me.

Sure enough, his window slid open after a few seconds and I saw a brown mop of curls on top of a pair of deep brown eyes stick out the window. "Hey, how's my little carrot?" he said with a glint of laughter in his eyes.

Ever since we were little, he's called me "his little carrot" because of my blazing red hair. I was always one of those people who hated their hair while everyone else seemed to love it.

"Mind if I come over?" I asked.

"Since when do you need to ask?" he replied with a smile.

I smiled back, and then I ran downstairs to throw on some shoes. I ran back upstairs and climbed out the window onto the evergreen tree that grew right in between his and my house. I jumped off the limb of the tree, grasped the metal bar above his window, and swung into his room feet first. This was my normal routine for getting to Julian's house, starting from when I was about 10. Today, however, my hands were sweaty and my right hand slipped off the bar a bit too soon. So, instead of making my usual graceful entrance, I went flying into the room and landed right on top of him.

"Sorry, sorry!" I apologized quickly. "My hands slipped off the bar too soon!" I laughed.

"S'okay, don't worry about it," he said while he poked me in the side and winked. I squeaked and jumped away, and then I rolled my eyes at him while he cracked up.

"I'm glad to see that my ticklishness amuses you," I said sarcastically.

He just laughed and said, "Hey, do you wanna play Clue?"

I smiled widely and nodded enthusiastically. Clue was always our favorite game. I usually won.

"I KNEW it was Mrs. White in the conservatory with the revolver, it just wasn't my turn!" He whined playfully.

"Oh stop whining, you can't win all the time, " I replied, giggling.

"I don't! You're the one that always wins!" he retorted.

"Why yes, yes I am."

He looked at me and smiled, but then his smile was replaced with a frown. "I'm gonna miss you," he said.

"Hey, we still have another five months together…oh my god, we only have five months together…" I said as the realization hit me like a ton of bricks.

Suddenly overcome with that horrible feeling, I ran over to where he sitting the bed and wrapped my arms around him. We held each other tight while we cried.

I suppose Julian was finally letting out all the emotion he had bottled up over the past few months. His shoulders shook with soft sobs, as did mine.

After about ten minutes, the crying subsided a bit and we began to relax. Then, Julian started to sing softly, "Here comes the sun, here comes the sun and I say, it's alright."

I smiled slightly through my tear stained face. This was my comfort song, and he knew that. I joined in singing, "Little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter." Then both of us sang, "Little darling, it's been a while since it's been here."

Both of us singing at full blast and slightly out of key (more me than him; he had the voice of an angel), I immediately cheered up.


	3. Chapter 3

"JULIA!" I heard my mother call form my room. "You need to clean your room!" Then before I can yell back she said, "And Julian can't help you, you have to do it by yourself for once!"

I rolled my eyes at her and then looked at Julian with mischief in my eyes. He looked back realizing my expression and immediately I started for the window. Once I was back in my room, I made sure my mom was downstairs, and then I motioned for Julian to come over. He jumped onto the tree, and landed gracefully in my room.

It wasn't even that messy! I had been cleaning out my bookshelf, so there were just books all over my floor.

"Shall we get started, then?" he asked in a false posh voice.

"We shall," I replied in the same voice.

We both laughed and got to work.

After about an hour, my bookshelf was tidy and the floor was visible. There was a huge black bag sitting next to me filled with books to donate to charity.

"Do you wanna take a drive with me down to the charity bin?" I asked. Julian pouted. "But it smells bad there," he replied.

I sighed. "If you come with me, we'll go get ice cream afterwards, okay?"

He grinned happily and said, "Okay!" I smiled. I swear, there's a three year old trapped inside of him.

After dumping the bag of books into the bin, we went to the small ice cream parlor down the street. As usual, I got plain chocolate ice cream while Julian ran around grabbing a bit of every topping.

After 10 minutes, we finally sat down and began to eat our ice cream. I looked at my phone to check the time. 5:30.

"Oh shoot, I have to be home by 5:45 for dinner!"

"Well, I guess we should leave then; we don't want your mom to throw a fit," he replied with a smile.

I laughed, remembering what had happened the last time. We took our ice cream and got in the car.

"Be careful, I don't want you getting ice cream all over my brand new car," I said, half joking-half serious.

"Don't worry, you know I wouldn't do that," he said while winking.

As we were driving home, we came to an intersection. I thought the guy to the right of me was letting me go, plus I had the right of way. But of course, we both went at the same time so I slammed on my brakes. Immediately, I heard a 'splat!' Julian looked at me guiltily.

"Oops," he said. I glared at him playfully.

"You better run when we get home," I warned.

"You're not gonna catch me; I can run faster than you," he said.

"We'll see about that."

The next five minutes were silent, but not awkward. Then, I decided to turn on the radio and find a good station. I decided on 102.4 Classic Rock. They were playing the very end of Bohemian Rhapsody, and then I heard the beginning notes of "Don't Let Me Down" by The Beatles. I squealed and started singing with the song.

Julian rolled his eyes. "Oh no, here she goes again," referring to my fan-girling which often consisted of squealing and/or screaming, jumping up and down, and singing at the top of my lungs. I just laughed and continued with my craziness.

It's not that Julian didn't like The Beatles; in fact, he actually loved their music and influence. But I suppose after being around me enough he's gotten a bit tired of my obsessive habits. He also knew that George Harrison was my favorite Beatle, which of course resulted in constant teasing.

"This song isn't even by George and you're still freaking out!" Julian said, laughing.

"So? John is my second favorite Beatle, and I have every right to freak out over him and his songs," I said defensively while smiling.

"Well, looks like your Georgie has some competition now!"

"Oh shut it, you."

We finally made it back to my house, much to Julian's apparent relief. He was probably thinking that I was going to crash the car because I was fan-girling so much. In my defense, I have learned to drive while fan-girling and I have to say I am quite good at it.

I pulled into my driveway and immediately Julian raced out of the car. I laughed and chased after him.

"You're never gonna catch me, Julia!" he yelled.

"Watch me!" I yelled back.

Julian actually was very fast, but I was just as fast. He ran across the street and onto the sidewalk. Of course, I followed him. I was determined.

As I was running across the wide street, I saw a car about 50 feet away. I easily judged that I would be able to make it across the street before the car came too close. And then, I tripped.

I looked to the right, and saw that it was the same car as the one at the intersection. All right then, he'll see me and stop.

Apparently I have terrible judgment because he didn't slow down. I looked across the street and saw Julian run out from behind a tree.

"JULIA!" he shouted. "JULIA NO!"

I looked at him with sad eyes, and looked back at the car. Then, everything slowed down.

You know how they say that when you're about to die, everything goes in slow motion? Well, they aren't exaggerating. It was like the kind of dream where you try to run but it feels like you're running through mud. I looked at the car and studied it. It was old and a bit rusty – looking, with chipped paint and bird droppings on the hood. The license plate was hanging off at one end and it read "GH2JL56." Then I looked up at the driver sitting behind the wheel. And guess freaking what? He was texting.

He was looking down at his phone and typing what was most likely a text of no importance. And the worst part? He was laughing. Looking down, texting, and laughing. Not the best combination, if you ask me.

The car was about 10 feet away from me now. I continued to stare at the driver. After what seemed like an eternity, he finally looked up.

His eyes grew wide with fear at the sight of me and he and I both knew it was too late.

I took one last look at Julian. His face was filled with shock, horror, and sadness. His mouth hung open as if he was trying to say something but he couldn't get the words out. I saw his eyes start to glisten.

My eyes started to glisten, too, but I smiled. In fact, I smiled so big that I almost started laughing. I guess the irony of the situation got to me. The girl with cancer who has 5 months to live gets hit by a car 5 months too early.

Looking at Julian's face made me smile even more. He had that adorable confused look in his eyes and his eyebrows were scrunched together. A few tears escaped from his eyes, but he smiled, too. Just a tiny one, but a smile nonetheless.

Julian's smile was the last thing I saw before the world went black.


	4. Chapter 4

I was lying on something. A floor, maybe? Yes, it was definitely a floor. A surprisingly comfortable floor, too.

I opened my eyes. The first thing I saw was white. White walls, white ceiling, white floor, white…actually, that's about all there was in the room.

I looked around again to discover that I wasn't in a room at all. I walked over to what I thought was a wall and found myself walking right through it, like it was fog.

Where the hell am I?

I walked around pretty aimlessly for a bit, feeling useless and lost and full of questions. How did I get here? Why am I here? Is there anybody else here? I decided to check my cell phone. I reached my hand down to my left leg where my jean pocket would be only to come into contact with my skin. My eyes widened as I realized I was naked. _No need to be self-conscious, it's not like there's anyone here, _I though to myself.

Not really knowing what else to do I just sat on the floor. I had no clothes, no means of communication, and I didn't have any recollection of what happened.

I decided to play doctor. I asked myself questions that doctors ask people who have concussions, like "What is the date?" or "Who's the current president?" Then I got to the question, "What was the last thing you remember doing before waking up here?" I racked my brain for answers, digging in the deepest nooks and crannies of my internal file cabinets. Finally, a flash of something went off in my head.

A flash…of what, though? Ugh, why can't I remember anything? Starting to get frustrated, I stood up and kicked an invisible rock all the way across the floor. And another…and another.

"Are you okay?"

I spun around quickly to come face to face with someone in a dark robe. A black shroud covered his head (at least I think he was male) and the only thing I could see were his bare feet. Remembering that I was naked, I screamed and tried to cover myself up, only to realize that I was now wearing a shirt and pants. _When and how in hell did clothes appear on my body? _I thought.

"Erm, are you okay?" The man asked again, taking a step towards me. Great, he probably thought I was a lunatic or something. I didn't blame him, I mean it's not everyday you see people repeatedly kicking around invisible rocks.

"Yes…I mean no…I…I don't know!" I cried frustratingly. "I can't remember anything! Why am I here? Who are you?"

He walked toward me and took my hand. "It's alright. Come with me."

The first thing I ever learned in life was to not talk to strangers and certainly not to take them by the hand and let them lead you. But here I was, doing exactly that. I don't know why I was letting him take me; I just felt like I trusted him for some reason. His voice was very sincere and he did seem truly worried. Plus, I had nowhere else to go.

All of a sudden, we got to a door. Where that door came from, I've no idea. It was also a blue door, so it stood out immensely from the all-white room. The mysterious man opened the door and motioned for me to enter. Well, at least he's a gentleman.

I walked through the door and he followed, shutting it quickly but softly, as if he was trying not to get caught. I immediately squinted my eyes from the bright sunlight as I began to follow the man. The sun was incredible, and even though I wasn't in that ridiculous room for very long, I felt like I hadn't seen the sun in years. It's rays radiated through my skin, sending golden beams of warmth throughout my entire body. We had entered from the door onto a suburban-looking street, with shops and small apartment buildings lining the sidewalk. He took me across the street and we began to walk on the sidewalk.

I picked up my stride to match his, and I asked, "Where are we and who are you?" I tried to be firmer this time.

"I know you have a lot of questions right now, and I promise to explain, but now is not the right time," he replied calmly.

Hmph. Not knowing anything was extremely frustrating and annoying. Why couldn't he just tell me who he is? I mean it's not like he's in the FBI or anything…right? I decided to keep my mouth shut just in case he was actually taking me prisoner or something like that.

We finally came to a stop in front of a flat. He took out a key and opened the door to reveal a very homey-like kitchen and living room. The kitchen was fully stocked with pots and pans and there was an open cabinet full of glassware. There was a refrigerator and a stove in the corner. The living room was complete with two small couches and a comfy looking chair. An acoustic guitar sat in between the two couches.

After taking a moment to look around the room, I noticed something else that caused me to suck in a large breath and almost faint.

John Lennon and Stuart Sutcliffe were sitting on the sofa.

"So, how'd it go?" asked John nonchalantly, looking at the mystery-man who brought me here.

"Shaddup, John," he replied. Then he took off the black shroud to reveal a very, _very_ familiar face.

"Who's the bird, eh?" asked Stuart.

"Found 'er in the Mist, I did. Dunno how she ended up there, though," said the one and only George Harrison. "The new ones are supposed to be sent straight to the Admin."

"Ahh, screw the Admin. They're no help anyway," replied John.

I decided it was about time to butt in. "Will somebody tell me what the _hell_ is going on here?"

George looked at me and said, "You're dead."

WHAT? I'm dead? How…oh, my goodness. In a flash, the memories started coming back to me. Julian, cancer, ice cream, chasing, car crash. _Car crash_. The texting driver hitting me full on in the middle of the street. Pain, and then blackness.

I opened my eyes and looked around the room at the faces all staring at me, waiting for me to say something. And then, I fainted.

"Oh, my, do you think she's dead?" Cried a high-pitched, overly dramatic voice. I could almost hear George and Stuart rolling their eyes at John (assuming it was John who said that, of course).

I then felt myself being lifted by a pair of skinny but strong arms onto the couch. I slowly opened my eyes and saw three pairs of eyes staring down at me.

"Are you okay?" asked George.

"Um, I think so," I answered.

George looked at John. "I _told _you this was a stupid dare. But when does anybody ever listen to me? And why do I keep listening to you, for that matter?"

"Well if you hadn't gone out to the Mist then this girl would have been lost there for a much longer time, so who's the smart one now, eh?" replied John, smirking.

"So? Someone would've found 'er eventually. And if I got caught out there then you and Stuart would've been in trouble, too."

" Well, what's life without a little risk, eh?"

"John, I know you don't take punishment very seriously - well, not seriously at all, actually - but this is no laughing matter and you know it. The only rule in the afterlife is that you can't go into the Mist. Plus, the guards only check the Mist every few months. Obviously she can't die again but you know what happens if her second heart stops beating," said Stuart.

"Oh lighten up, of course I know, you git. But she's all right now, yeah? So what's there to worry about?"

"We have to figure out what to do with 'er. We can't just hand her in to the Admin because they'll find out about me being in the Mist," said George.

"Well what do we do with her then?" asked Stuart.

"You know, I'm still here if you haven't noticed," I said.

"Sorry, miss. What's your name, by the way?" asked George.

"S'okay, I guess. Oh and the name's Julia," I said with a smile.

"That's a pretty name," said John with a slightly distant look on his face.

"Thank you," I replied knowingly. "I would say I'm sorry for your loss but I suppose you get to see your mum all the time now."

John's usual smirk suddenly turned into a harsh glare. I looked into his eyes, and then a tore my head away. Just as I did that, John got up and walked swiftly out of the room.

George and Stuart gave each other a look and then George looked at me.

"Did I say something wrong?" I asked guiltily.

"John's mum, Julia, got sent back the moment she arrived. A guard had found her wandering in the Mist and they sent her back to Earth as a baby. John never even got a chance to see 'er," said Stuart with a solemn look on his face.

"That's horrible. Why would they do that?" I asked.

"Sometimes, when the guards find someone in the Mist, they send 'em back because they don't belong here. Maybe they think the person died to early or something. Nobody really knows why the guards do it," said George.

"Oh," I said, not really knowing what else to say. Poor John. He never catches a break, does he? As much as I didn't like my mom, I could never imagine living without her.

"So would you like to stay here with us? At least until we figure out what's going on?" asked George.

"I really don't want to impose on you guys, plus John doesn't seem to like me very much anymore," I said.

"Oh don't worry about John, he'll come around before you know it. And you wouldn't be imposing at all, milady," he replied in a false-posh accent.

I giggled. "Why thank you, kind sirs," I said in the same accent.

"C'mon, I'll show you to the guest room," said George, holding out his hand.

I happily took his hand as he led me up the stairs.


	5. Chapter 5

The bedroom was small, but cozy nonetheless. The walls were green and there was a white blanket on the bed. Next to the bed sat a small night table and there was a dresser in the opposite corner.

I sat down on the bed and looked up at George. "Thanks for the room, I really appreciate it," I said.

He smiled. "It's no problem, really. Things are getting a bit boring around here anyway. If you don't mind tellin' me, what was your life like?"

"I don't mind at all. Um, it was pretty good I guess, in the beginning. I had my mom and dad, my two little sisters, and my friends. But then when I was thirteen, my dad was hit by a drunk driver. Mom was never the same after that, and she became really distant. I grew apart from my friends, but I still had Julian who is, or rather was, my best friend."

"I'm sorry," said George. He sounded sincere, which made me smile. Usually, when people say they're sorry, they don't really mean it. The empty words come out of their mouths and then they continue on with their normal lives. But George actually sounded like truly meant the words.

"It's alright. It feels like such a long time ago, actually."

"So, how'd you end up 'ere?"

"Well, I was diagnosed with cancer in July, and the doctors said I only had one year to live-"

"But it's only December right now," George interrupted.

"I know, I'm getting to that," I said smiling. "Yesterday, Julian got ice cream on my car so I started chasing him. He ran across the street and I followed, but then I tripped. There was a car coming and I thought he would stop, but it turns out he was texting, and he hit me."

"Wow."

"Ironic, right?" I giggled. A small laugh escaped his lips and soon enough we were both laughing so hard that tears were streaming down our faces. I'm not really sure what was so funny about the situation, but clearly it didn't matter.

After a few minutes, our laughs subsided, and we decided to head downstairs.

"If you don't mind me asking, why do you look like you were pulled right out of 1964 if you died in 2001?"

He laughed. "Age is but a number here, literally. Because we stay here forever, time doesn't really exist. We can choose to look any age, as long as it's not an age we didn't live through."

"So I could change my appearance and look like my five-year-old-self if I wanted to?"

"Sure. Not many people want that though. And yer only allowed to change your appearance once a month, so choose carefully."

"Month? I though time didn't exist here," I replied with a smirk.

"Touché. I suppose us dead people needed to come up with some way of organizing things."

"Yeah, that makes sense."

We arrived downstairs and saw that the kitchen was covered in white powder.

"What the…" I said, looking around for a clue as to what happened. All of a sudden, a powdered-faced Stuart came sprinting around the corner, followed by a powdered-faced John, who was holding a large bag of flour and cackling madly.

"SAVE ME, GUYS!" yelled Stuart.

George laughed and yelled back, "Yer on your own for this one, Stuart!"

I laughed and decided to chase after John. He didn't realize I had been chasing him until I hopped on his back and grabbed the bag of flour out of his hands. He gave a yell and tried to shake me off, but I held on of course. Stuart ran around to me and I passed him the bag. Then I jumped off of John just in time before Stuart started pouring flour all over him.

George, who had been standing to the side the whole time, looked at me and said, "Yer one crazy bird, you know."

I laughed and said, "I know!" George and I looked back at Stuart and John, who were now wrestling on the living room carpet.

"Does it always get like this?" I asked George.

"Eh, not always. We usually have at least one day a month when nothing weird happens," he replied smiling.

I didn't realize it until now, but all of a sudden it hit me that each of them are completely different ages. Stuart is 20, John is 40, and George is 58. And yet here they all are, fooling around like ten year olds.

"I wonder what exactly started all this," I remarked.

"With John, who knows?" said George.

I laughed and watched as John and Stuart finally stopped fighting and stood up.

"Ugh, I am definitely taking a shower," said Stuart, looking down at himself. "How the bloody hell did you manage to get flour in my pants?"

"I have my ways," said John, while George and I burst out laughing.

Stuart ran upstairs to take a shower and George, John, and I sat on the couch and turned on the TV.

"What exactly do people watch on TV here?" I wondered aloud.

"Same telly shows that people watch on Earth, except for the news, of course. They don't usually show what's going on down on Earth, so they just give us updates of what's happenin' around here," answered George.

"Exactly how big is 'here'?"

"No one really knows. People don't really care as long as it doesn't affect them. Not so different from people on Earth, I s'pose," said John. "Ignorance is bliss, as they say."

"Aren't there any wars? Fighting? Protests?" I asked.

"Not at all," said George.

"But there has to be something. How many people are here?"

"I dunno. How many people 'ave died since the beginning of time?" John replied.

"Then there must be billions more people here than on Earth. How can there not be any wars? Not that I'm not happy about that, but I just think it seems pretty unrealistic."

"Who cares? I protested against war for ten years, I'm not gonna complain now."

I remained silent after that, because I knew he was somewhat right. But how is that even possible? There must be something going on out there, or maybe something controlling us. I chose to let the matter rest because I didn't want to face the infamous Lennon anger.

"I'm going to make some tea, would you like some, Julia?" offered George.

"_Yes_, I would _love_ some tea, Georgie, thank you _so_ very much for asking," said John sarcastically.

I giggled. "Sure George, thank you," I answered.

George went to get the tea, leaving John and I in the living room.

"John, I'm sorry about what I said before about your mom. I didn't know." He just stared blankly at the TV. "Okay, so this will be a one-sided conversation. Look, I really am sorry. When I was alive and, well, obsessing over the Beatles and all that, I felt horrible when I found out about your mom. But at the same time, I was happy because I thought you were reunited with her now. It's horrible and unfair that those asshole guards sent her back, to her and to you. I wish there was something I could do to change it, but I just got here and I still haven't got my head around the fact that I'm dead. I'm really, truly sorry." We sat there in silence for a moment, and then John's head slowly turned to look at me. There was a smirk on his face.

"So, you were obsessed with Beatles then, eh?"

I opened my mouth, stunned that his response held a lot less emotion than I thought it would.

"Uh, yeah," I responded, still shocked.

His smirk grew larger, if that was even possible. "Who's your favorite?"

My stomach dropped at that question. What do I say? If I tell the truth and say George, I'll never hear the end of it. And I suppose the same goes if I say Paul or Ringo. But if I say John is my favorite, that'll only inflate his ego, which is high enough as it is. Well, I guess there's no winning in this situation.

"Um-uhh, it's um… George," I practically whispered in fear of George hearing from the kitchen. "But don't you dare tell him or anyone else or I will kick your ass!"

John smiled with satisfaction and leapt up off the couch, running upstairs. _Ookaay_, I thought. _That was odd_. _At least he's probably forgiven me._

As soon as John left, George walked back in with two cups of tea. He handed one to me and sat on the couch to my right.

"Why'd John leave so suddenly?" he asked.

I blushed a bit because of the previous conversation that John and I had. "Uhh…I don't know. Just John being John, I suppose."

"You never know what to expect when it comes to John," said George.

Suddenly I realized I had no possessions or clothing. I wondered if there were any clothing stores here.

"Hey George, is there anywhere I can go to buy some extra clothing?"

"Oh! I forgot about that, sorry." Typical boys. "I can take you out tomorrow if you'd like."

"You don't have to do that. I can just go by myself."

"It's fine, I don't have anything else to do tomorrow."

"But I don't want you to waste your free time on me."

"Okay, then," he smiled. "Do you know where to go?"

"No, but-" I said.

"Do you have a car here?"

"No, but-"

"Then it's settled. I'm going with you."

I huffed. "Fine."

"You're very stubborn, aren't you?"

I shrugged. "I guess I just like to be independent."

"I respect that in girls. I don't like to rely too much on others, meself. It's easier, I suppose."

"Yeah. Well, I think I'm gonna hit the sack now. Goodnight, George."

"Goodnight, Julia."

I walked upstairs to my new bedroom and took off my shoes. I went into the bathroom and splashed my face with water because I didn't have a washcloth. Then, I automatically reached for the right side of the counter where my toothbrush would be, but of course nothing was there. I went out of the bathroom and saw George in the hallway.

"You don't happen to have a spare toothbrush, do you?" I asked George.

"I do, in fact! Here, I think it's in the cabinet," he replied. He walked back into the bathroom and opened the cabinet. Inside, there was a box of bandages, some pill jars, and a blue toothbrush lying on the bottom shelf.

"Here you are," he said.

"Thank you. Thanks again for everything, George."

"It's no problem. If you need anything, just come get me."

"Thanks. Goodnight, George."

"Goodnight," he said with a smile.

I brushed my teeth and walked back into my bedroom. I curled up under the covers and closed my eyes peacefully. As I drifted off to sleep, a small smile slowly spread across my face. _I think I'm going to like it here._


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning I rolled out of bed and stretched. I was slowly padding my way down the hallway when I heard voices downstairs. Everybody must've been up, so I decided to explore a little. I opened the first door on the right to reveal a room about the same size of mine. The walls were white, and so was every piece of furniture and bed covering. The only non-white object in the room was an acoustic guitar sitting on a stand in the corner. _This must be John's room_. I walked out quickly, not wanting to face John's reaction if he found out I was in his room.

The next room I walked into had dark green walls with light brown furniture. It was very tidy, and in the corner was a long desk with an open sketchbook and various size pencils. The bed was made and there was a pile of books on the night table. I guessed that it was Stuart's room. Not wanting to snoop too much, I quietly walked out of the room.

I quietly tip-toed across the hall into the last room. The walls were painted a rich, yet light, purple and the bed and desk were a dark mahogany. The shelves above the desk were tidy and the bed was made. In the corner of the room there were also two guitars, like John's room. One guitar was an acoustic, and the other was a Fender Stratocaster. I easily assumed that this was George's room. I looked back over at the guitars, and the temptation was such that I picked up the acoustic off of its stand. I sat on the chair in the corner and placed my left hand on the fret board. I looked out of the room to make sure that no one was watching, and then I started to softly strum. After a while, I figured that everyone was most likely downstairs, so I began to strum louder and pick out some random tunes.

All of a sudden, I heard footsteps. I quickly placed the guitar back on its stand and ran out of the room. Not having enough time to go back into my room, I ducked into the nearest room, which happened to be Stuart's. I walked over to the desk where the sketchbook lay and flipped it open to the first page. It held a beautiful sketch of a woman who looked to be in her twenties, with short blond hair and a leather jacket. _This must be Astrid, the woman the Beatles met when they went to Hamburg, and the woman that Stuart fell in love with_. I flipped to the next page, and there was another drawing of her. I kept flipping and finally came to a drawing of a young man with slicked back hair and a leather jacket and pants. This was easily John. I flipped through some more pages that just had random sketches when suddenly I heard the door creak open. Stuart was standing there in the doorway with one eyebrow raised.

I looked at him and said, "I'm sorry, I was just exploring. I didn't know this was your room. You're a very good artist."

"Thank you," he said, with a slight smile. At least he didn't seem angry. He walked into the room and stood beside me, looking at his sketchbook. He opened to the first page and smiled a bit more.

"Is that Astrid?" I asked quietly.

"Yes, it is," he replied. "You probably know this already, but Astrid was me girlfriend just before I died. I met 'er in Germany, Hamburg to be exact. John, Paul, George, Pete, and I went to Hamburg to play at a club and Astrid helped us out a bit. She was sort of like a mother to us, except I fell in love with her."

"That's lovely," I said. "But why did you assume that I already knew all of that?"

"Oh, er, John let slip to me that you used to be obsessed with the Beatles," he said sheepishly.

"You have got to be kidding me. Well, I suppose I knew this would happen all along, from the moment I told John."

"So ye _were_ obsessed with the Beatles?"

"Ugh, not you, too!"

He let out a loud laugh. "S'yer fault fer tellin' us, you know."

"Yeah, I suppose that's true." I smiled. "But now I have to go and kick John's butt because I told him not to tell anybody."

"Good luck with that."

"Why, thank you." With that, I left the room and walked swiftly downstairs. I stopped before the kitchen because I heard John and George talking quietly. I faced my back to the wall and craned my neck so I could hear what they were saying.

"-going to do? If the guards find out she's with us, they'll be after us. She's obviously not a normal death case so who knows what this'll lead to?" I easily detected that this was John's voice.

"Well we can't just kick 'er out, can we? That would just be inhumane, and it wouldn't be fair to her," said George.

"But she's got to have some relatives or something here, right?"

"If she was left in the Mist, who knows? Her whole dead family might've been sent back to Earth the minute they died. S'what happened to your mum." There was a long pause in the conversation. Then George said, "Oh, don't look at me like that, I'm only trying to help. But seriously, what're we gonna do when the guards find out about her? I don't want her to be in danger."

"And why do ye care so much about 'er, eh Georgie?"

"Oh shaddup, John. Now's not the time fer that."

"But isn't it? She's alone, she's got no one to care for her, and she's clueless. Sounds like the perfect time to me."

"If it sounds so perfect, then why aren't you goin' after er?"

"Do ye want me to?"

"NO!"

"So ye do care about 'er."

George let out a loud sigh. "Yes, but I feel guilty 'bout leaving Olivia and Dhani."

"You're dead. You already left 'em. Besides, it's about time for you to start anew. I did."

"I still feel guilty, though. And don't you feel guilty about leavin' Sean and Yoko?"

"I did at first, but I realized they're in another world right now. And it's not like I'll never see 'em again, which is why I don't get involved in anything long-term."

"But it's been thirty-two years now fer you, and fer me it's only been eleven."

"Well, s'yer choice." It was silent after that, so I decided to sit on the couch so it wouldn't look like I was eavesdropping. John walked into the living room and I glared at him. He looked at me with a false innocent face and said, "How are we this morning, Julia? Get a good night's sleep?"

"Don't act all innocent now. I know what you did."

"Me? What could I have possibly done? I'm only an innocent little child!" he exclaimed dramatically.

"Oh, really now? Then why is it that Stuart assumed that I knew all about your adventures in Germany and his relationship with Astrid?"

"Fine, you caught me. But what else would you expect from me? I am _the_ John Lennon, after all."

"Oh my goodness, I almost forgot! Forgive me, Mister Lennon, our lord and master!" I apologized sarcastically.

"Yes, bow down to the almighty John Lennon," he said, standing over me as I literally kneeled in front of him and bowed. Then, when he wasn't looking, I grabbed his ankle and dragged him to the floor. He yelped and I quickly got up and ran away. I ran into the kitchen and hid behind George. He turned around and gave me questioning look. "John told everybody I was obsessed with the Beatles, and I'm getting him back for it."

"And how's that workin' out for ye?

"Um, not very well." He just laughed and continued drinking his cup of tea. Then, I heard John run into the kitchen and I immediately ran out from behind George and back into the living room. John followed and tackled me to the couch before I could get away. He began tickling me and I squealed and laughed.

"John, stop! Please!" I yelled in between laughing.

"NEVER!" he yelled and cackled madly.

"GEORGE, HELP ME!" I kept trying to push John's hands away, but to no avail.

I heard George run in from the kitchen to see what was going on. He smiled and sneaked up behind John. He put a finger to his lips. Suddenly, John stopped tickling me because George pushed him to the ground and they began wrestling. But John, having the weight advantage, quickly wrestled George to the ground. George gave up and he and John got up.

"Didn't someone promise against my will to go shopping with me today?" I asked, eyeing George.

"That I did, Julia," said George. "Let's get dressed first."

"Good idea. There's a possibility we would get some odd stares if we just walked out in our PJ's," I responded. "Or maybe not. By the way, do girls still chase you guys when you take one step out the door?"

"Eh, not anymore. Occasionally there's one or two people who ask for our autograph, but we don't usually get bothered. People are pretty good about that kind of stuff here."

"Oh, well that's a relief. I wouldn't want to be killed in a mob of fans, hypothetically speaking, of course." He smiled and we both went upstairs to get dressed.

Ten minutes later, George and I were in his car and off to go shopping. The car was very vintage looking, with circular lights and tailfins on either side. The paint gleamed a bright red. As we were driving, I noticed that there were all types of cars on the road; everything from little black coaches from the early 1900's to your typical 2012 Hyundai Sonatas. I wondered if I would be able to buy a car here. But did I even have money? "George, I just realized that I don't have any money on me."

"Don't worry about that Julia, we'll just stop by the bank to make an account for you. Unfortunately, money that you had in your life doesn't transfer. But here, we don't use the same system as they do on Earth."  
"Huh?"

"I'll explain it when we get there." He smiled. For a while, it was silent, and then I asked, "Do we get radio here?"

"Yes, just push the button right under the screen."

Screen? "Wow, I never expected a car like this to have such advanced technology."

"What, you mean a radio? Cars have had radios since the 50's," he said.

"Not the radios, silly, the screen."

"Oh, well, they sort of mix all the decades together when it comes to cars. You might even find a screen like this in one of those little coach-cars from the 1910's."

"Cool." I pushed the button that George pointed out and turned the dial to find a good station. Finally, I faintly heard a familiar voice coming from the speakers. I adjusted the dial in order to get a clearer signal, and I realized that the voice was none other than Paul McCartney. I looked at George and asked, "Is that Paul?" Of course, I already knew the answer. I think he knew that I knew, too.

"Yes, it is." It was silent for a second, and then I asked quietly, "Do you miss him?"

After a pause that seemed to last an eternity, he answered, "Yes." He was nearly whispering.

"He misses you, too, you know." At least that's what I've heard from his interviews. "So does Ringo."

"Really, now? And why should I trust you? Everyone else tells me the same thing, but how could I know fer sure?"

"Gone on a computer recently?" Do they even have computers up here?

"I don't keep one in our place. Never have."

"Well, you should check one out. Listen to what Paul, Ringo, and everyone else have to say about you. Especially you're wife and Dhani."

"I know I should. I just can't bring myself to do it. What if they really don't care that I died? Who's to say that they just quickly moved on from a stupid little bump in the road?" He seemed extremely insecure.

"George, listen to me. If you think for one moment that you're death was considered by your loved ones as a 'little bump in the road,' then you might as well just commit suicide. Okay, that was a horrible analogy, but you get my point. They all care about you, so very much. They were your family. They still _are_ your family. And you'll see them all again someday, you know. Promise me you'll look at their interviews?"

He gave a small smile. "Alright, fine, I will."

After another few minutes of driving, he pulled into a shopping center that sort of looked like an outdoor outlet center. We drove into a large parking lot filled with thousands of different cars. It seemed like every single spot was filled, but then all of a sudden George started pulling into a spot that was already filled. "GEORGE LOOK OUT!" I yelled. But as soon as I said that, an open space appeared, literally growing out of nothing. I was utterly shocked, to say the least. "What the…"

George just looked at me and winked. My mouth hung open, but I closed it quickly and reminded myself to just go with it.

"Alright, shrinking and expanding parking lots. No big deal, I guess," I said. He just laughed and said, "Come on, where do you want to go first?"

"I thought we were going to the bank first."

"We'll go after. It's usually crowded at this time of day anyway."

"But then I can't pay for my clothes."

"Don't worry, I'll take care of it."

"I can't steal your money, George."

"I have way more than enough, Julia."

"Fine."

And so began our adventure of shopping.


	7. Chapter 7

We got out of the car and started walking toward the shopping center. It was very crowded, and people of all ages were bustling about carrying shopping bags. There were even some pregnant women, or women pushing babies around in strollers.

"Um, George, did those babies just die recently?" I asked, horrified.

"Could be, but most likely they were made 'ere." _Wow, so I guess women can reproduce in the afterlife, thankfully. _This made me very happy because I thought I'd never be able to have kids or a family, which was pretty important to me. Then, another thought hit me.

"Is there school here?"

"No, but you can still get an education if you'd like to," he responded.

"But how do I get an education without going to school?"

"There's a program here called the EIP, which stands for Education Implant Program. If there's anything you ever want ta learn about, you just schedule and EIP appointment at the local hospital. It's probably going to sound a bit weird, but they actually implant information into your head. It's a painless procedure and it only takes about ten minutes. I was completely against the idea at first, but I slowly warmed up to it."

"So basically, you have to get brain surgery just to learn about the 7 Kings of Rome?"

"Pretty much. Gear, huh?

"Hell yeah!" Then I started singing "Another Brick in the Wall" by Pink Floyd. "_We don't need no education." _George looked at me and asked, "What's that song yer singing?"

"Ever heard of Pink Floyd?"

"Reckon so, but I've never really given 'em a listen."

"Then let me just tell you that you're missing out on a boatload of great music," I said. George put on a hurt face. "Of course nothing will ever top the Beatles' and your music." George smiled with mock satisfaction and said, "I was only jokin', but are the Beatles really considered the greatest band ever? I've only heard rumors."

"Absolutely. You guys literally laid the foundation for every single band that came afterward. Even the Stones looked up to you."

"Mick?" he laughed. "I doubt that."

"He said so himself, you know."

"Did 'e now? Well, I suppose I believe you," he said smiling.

We walked into the first store that was filled with dresses, pants, and shirts. I looked at it all for a second, overwhelmed because I was never any good with shopping. But after about a half hour, I was in the dressing room while George tossed me shirt after shirt.

"Don't I get ta see you in any of them?" he asked as I was trying on a green dress. The dress was very 60's style, with a higher neckline and a Peter Pan-style collar.

I sighed, feeling self-conscious. "Alright." I replied. I zipped up the dress and opened the door slowly.

George's eyes widened and he said, "You look beautiful, Julia. I mean, not that you don't always look beautiful, I mean-you know..."

"Thank you, George," I smiled widely and he stopped stammering. He just blushed and then I went back inside the dressing room to try on a few more things. I couldn't believe that George had just called me beautiful! I couldn't stop smiling as I changed back into my "Mist" clothes. _No, wait! George still has a wife back on Earth! And his son, Dhani! I can't just fall in love with him; what would happen when Olivia shows up? _Sadly realizing that it wouldn't be the best idea to be in a relationship with George, I gathered my things and walked out of the dressing room. George noticed my expression.

"What's wrong?" he asked in that beautiful Liverpudlian accent of his.

Obviously, I couldn't tell him what was going through my mind so I simply responded, "Uh…it's nothing."

He nodded understandingly and we made our way to the next store, which happened to be a shoe store. All of a sudden, a girl of about 13 or 14 years came sprinting toward us, and by "us" I mean George. She tackled him and I immediately started to try and pull her off him. I have to admit, she was pretty strong for 13.

Eventually, a security guard showed up and together we pried the girl off of George. She finally let up and stomped away. George stood up, and I had to say he was quite a sight to see. His mop top was completely disheveled, and bits and pieces of fabric had been ripped off his clothing. He still looked completely adorable, of course.

"Thank you, sir," George said to the guard.

"No problem, George," he responded, smiling.

"You two know each other?" I asked, somewhat bemused.

"Let's just say this isn't the first incident we've had concerning the Beatles," the guard chuckled. I laughed and George and I continued with shopping.

"Didn't you say that crazy fan girls weren't a problem here?"

"Hey, for yer information, I said they _usually_ weren't a problem."

"Do you think that girl actually died when she was 13?"

"She probably just changed her appearance. Bu then again, you never know," he said.

At about two o' clock, I decided that I had spent enough of George's money, so we hauled the bags back to the car.

It only took about ten minutes to drive to the bank, and soon enough we were pulling into the small parking lot. Despite the size of the parking lot, the bank itself was huge. Looking at it, I immediately thought of Harry Potter, for the building was white with columns holding it up. It was very old and crooked, with ivy running up the right side and it was leaning to the left so much that I thought it would topple over any second. We walked inside and I was surprised to see normal men in suits sitting behind the desks; I expected goblins.

At the front desk sat a man in a suit and tie, with his hair neatly combed back. He sat in a black swivel chair behind a dark mahogany desk. George nudged me forward, and I looked at him nervously. "Go on, they don't bite," he said.

I walked up to the desk and the man looked up from his computer. "How may I help you?"

"Um, I would like to open a bank account?" I tried to sound nonchalant, but it sort of came out like a question. He looked at me with grey eyes and spoke in a harsh British accent.

"Very well. Name?"

"Julia Taylor Brown."

"Date of birth?"

"June 11, 1995."

"Date of death?"

"December 8, 2012."

"Any deceased family members?"

"Uh…" I frantically looked at George. He stepped up and said, "Her grandparents, but they didn't leave her any money." The man took in George's disheveled appearance, clearly trying to see if he was lying or not. After a few moments, he said, "Very well. What are your parents' names?"

"Louise and Michael Brown."

"Siblings?"

"Maria and Lucy."

"Are any of these people deceased?"

"No."

As I said all of this, he was typing the information into the computer. Then, he handed me a rectangular, silver stick about 5 inches long that had a tiny screen on it. On the screen it said €2,000. They use euros here?

I took the stick out of his hand and asked, "How do I use this?"

"Whenever you would like to make a purchase, you simply hand the stick to the cashier and he or she will deduct that amount of money on it. Like a debit card."

"Okay, thank you," I said. I turned back to George and he said, "I'm starving. Do you want ta get something to eat?"

"Sure," I replied, feeling a bit hungry myself. Plus, I had heard rumors of George's constant hunger.

We drove over to a small café. As we went inside, I asked George, "What do they serve here?"

"Anything you could ever wish fer, but ye really want ta try the fish n' chips. It's a traditional English dish, ya know."

"Any food in the world?"

"Yep," he said happily. I laughed. "You must love that." George laughed and we sat down at a small booth. A waitress came over to us and took our orders.

"How long will it be?" asked George.

"It's a bit crowded today, so I'd say…up to 5 minutes," the waitress responded.

"Alright, thank you," said George.

I looked at George incredulously. "Five minutes?"

"Well usually it only takes about one minute, but it seems to be a bit crowded today."

"You people are practically spoiled here!"

"Hey, I'm not complaining. Starving children like me can't afford to wait 5 minutes."

I giggled. "Starving children like you? You had 3 eggs for breakfast, plus bacon and sausage."

"Like I said, starving," he replied with a smirk.

"You're a bottomless pit, you are," I said smiling.

"So I've been told." As George said this, the waitress came over with two plates of fish and chips. George licked his lips and began eating. It was actually delicious, despite the fact that I'm not a big fan of fish. George finished eating a few minutes before me, but once I finished we left the restaurant and headed home.

The minute we pulled into the small driveway, George bounded out of the car into the house and yelled, "Bathroom!" Great, now I would have to carry all these bags on my own.

After ten minutes I had successfully hauled each bag inside and upstairs into my room, so I plopped myself down on the couch next to Stuart.

"Hey Julia, would you like to come to our performance tonight?" John asked as he walked in from the kitchen.

"You guys still preform?!" I exclaimed excitedly. John gave me a look as if to say "Well, duh."

"Well how was I supposed to know?" I asked defensively. "For all I know you guys could have gotten tired of music and decided to become surgeons or something."

John and Stuart burst out laughing. "Surgeons? John can't even unwrap a bandage!"

"Hey! I unwrap bandages perfectly, thank you very much!"

"Well, I was joking about becoming surgeons, but do you guys actually still write music and stuff?"

"'Course we do. Music's the only thing I have to live for…well you know what I mean. Stuart's even gotten better on bass."

"What about a drummer?" I asked.

"Anyone who's willing to volunteer."

"Bet you get tons of guys wanting to play drums for you."

"Actually we don't. Dunno why, though," said John.

"They're probably just too intimidated to play with the one and only Beatles," I said smiling.

"Oh no, we're not the Beatles anymore."

"You're not?" I said, confused.

"Nope," said Stuart seriously. "We decided to call ourselves the Quarrymen again." Just then George came back downstairs.

"'Ey! I though we were still gonna call ourselves the Beatles!" said George.

"Aw, we were only pullin' Julia's leg, George. Of course we still call ourselves the Beatles. Haven't you been payin' attention to the programs?"

"I'm too busy putting up with you." "He's too busy putting up with you," said George and Stuart at the same time.

"Great minds think alike!" said Stuart, grinning. John just rolled his eyes playfully and flipped on the TV. Nothing else but the news was on, so he settled on that.

"New reports have come in saying that more and more people are showing up in the Mist instead of being sent straight to Administration. Because of this, the guards are sending every fifth person back to Earth in fear that the Mist will become overpopulated with the Undecided. Stay tuned for more information in ten minutes."

"Every fifth person!" I exclaimed, horrified. "That's terrible! What if I never get to see my parents again? Or my sisters? Or…" I stopped when I noticed John giving me a look. "Sorry, John, I'm just tired and frustrated."

"I know," he said understandingly. We watched the news for a little while longer. Then John blurted out, "So what should we have for dinner?"

George and Stuart just shrugged, but I volunteered my services. "I can cook if you guys want. Plus, I haven't properly thanked you for letting me stay."

George's face lit up like a child at Christmastime and he said, "That would be great, Julia! Ooh, what are you going ta cook? How long will it take? When…"

"GEORGE!" shouted John, Stuart, and I at the same time. Then I said, "You know, you practically just had lunch, how can you possibly still be hungry?"

"Because he's George, that's why," said John.

I walked into the kitchen and went through the cabinets to find quite a few boxes of cornflakes, but I also happened to find some pasta. _Jackpot!_

I boiled some water and put the pasta in, while simultaneously making tomato sauce. When everything was finished, I called in the boys. They all came rushing in and I carried the bowl of pasta to the table.

"Wow Julia, this is actually quite good," said Stuart with his mouth partially full. I just smiled as I ate my share of pasta. Once everyone was finished, I did the dishes while the boys warmed up for their performance. I couldn't help myself from smiling as I dried the last plate. I was finally going to see the Beatles, if not all of them, perform live!


	8. Chapter 8

I looked at myself in the mirror, and staring back at me was a strange girl with high heels and makeup. I sighed. I looked pretty, but it just wasn't _me_. I never wore pretty dresses, except on special occasions. And the high heels were just a tad bit uncomfortable. My dress was navy blue with wide straps, and it stopped just above my knees. The shoes were a painful two-and-a-half inches, which, for me, is considered high. I didn't put on too much makeup; only a bit of eyeliner, mascara, and blush. Sighing again, I grabbed my brand new silver clutch purse and headed downstairs. I was about halfway down when suddenly, I lost my footing and tripped. Thankfully, I did not end up tumbling downward, but my fall was loud enough for the boys to hear.

"Are you okay? George asked as he, John, and Stuart came rushing over. They were all wearing traditional "Beatle suits," as if it was 1964, and they all looked devilishly handsome, especially George.

"Julia?" John waved a hand in front of my face. I blinked a couple of times and said, "Oh uhh…sorry, um, yeah I'm fine, thanks!" John just smirked while looking back and forth from me to George. I have him a look saying, 'If you say anything, you're dead!' John laughed and walked away. George and Stuart looked confused, but they just shrugged.

"I think I'm going to change into a pair of flats."

"That would probably be a good idea, yeah?" said George. "We don' want ye fallin' all over the place."

I laughed and said, "Yeah, that wouldn't be too much fun, I suppose." I slowly made my way back up the stairs and threw on a pair of black flats, and then went back downstairs where the boys were waiting.

"Beautiful as always, milady," said Stuart in a posh accent.

I giggled. "Thank you," I replied while curtseying.

We neatly piled into John's car, which happened to be a giant hippie van. There was plenty of space.

"Where are you guys performing?"

Just a little club, nothin' huge," shrugged John.

"Clubs are all I've ever played at," joked Stuart.

I like playin' at clubs better, meself," said George. "I could hear ourselves more easily."

We arrived at the club, which was called "The Vibe." John, George, and Stuart opened the trunk to grab their instruments, and then we headed inside.

The club was fairly small, and it was slightly reminiscent of the Cavern Club that the Beatles used to play at in the early 60's. To the right there was a bar, and the stage was already set up with equipment such as microphones and amplifiers.

"Would you like to come with us while we set up?" asked George.

"No, I'm fine. I don't want to get in your way," I replied.

"Okay, but just be careful. You never know if you're gonna find a sketchy character in a club like this," he warned.

"Don't worry about me, I'm nearly 18 years old," I tried to assure George.

"Well, alright. We'll be out on stage in just a few minutes." He waved goodbye and I smiled. Then I looked around and decided to take a seat at the bar while I waited for the boys to come on stage.

As I ordered a drink, I noticed a strange man staring at me from across the club. He was dressed in all black: black suit, black pants, black shoes. Had he not been staring at me like he was, I would have said he was quite handsome. He had sharp cheekbones and dark eyes, and he looked very fit. He was like a statue, standing amidst the chaos of the club and not moving a single muscle. It was eerie. I was afraid to look away; what if he was after me or something?

Thankfully, he looked away finally and walked briskly out the door. I continued to stare at the spot where he had stood, when I suddenly felt a tap on my shoulder. I whipped my head around to find a guy who looked to be in his twenties. His hair was a warm brown and his eyes were slightly droopy, not unlike Paul McCartney's. I nearly fainted when I realized who it was.

"George sent me down to tell you we'll be performing in a minute," he said.

"But…but you're-" I stuttered. He laughed.

"The greatest drummer in the world? Yeah, I get that a lot," he said.

"You're Keith Moon!" _Wow. I have really got to tone down the fangirling. _

"Yep, last time I checked," he said in his warm, London accent.

"You're certainly not any old drummer," I remarked. "John said he usually has trouble getting people to play for them."

"Well I just happened to be in town," he replied with a smirk. "They can't refuse me."

"Then I guess I'll be seeing one of the greatest drummers of all time tonight. Don't let that inflate your ego too much, though."

"Too late, luv," he said, and then bounded off to the stage. I couldn't believe I just met Keith Moon! Trying to control my fangirlish outbursts, I walked closer to the stage. After a minute, the boys walked on carrying their guitars. Keith was already sitting behind his drum kit. After a good 30-second applause, they started to play.

Even though I was alone, I danced my heart out with everyone around me. But mostly, I watched the Beatles (or rather, John George, Stuart, and Keith. _What a group). _It was absolutely incredible to watch them. I stared intently at George, whose fingers slid easily along the fret board as he tapped his foot to the music. I loved the way he intently started at his fretting hand, and how his eyebrows were scrunched together in concentration. Moving my eyes over to Stuart, I saw that he had a small smile on his face. I could tell he loved playing bass as much as he loved art. He, too, was tapping his foot. Then I looked at Keith, who was crazily banging on his drums, a little inappropriately considering they were playing a fairly mellow song. I saw John give him a look, and Keith rolled his eyes but began to tone it down somewhat. I giggled to myself. John and Keith seemed to be pretty good friends, surprisingly.

The Beatles played a bunch of songs, ranging from All My Loving to Cold Turkey, a song from John's solo years. They also played some of George's later songs, such as What is Life. I could tell George loved to sing, and his voice was the sweetest thing I had ever heard.

When their set was finished, they all bowed and walked off the small stage. I ran over to the backstage door, waiting for them to come out. After waiting for about five minutes, I began to wonder where the boys were. Maybe this wasn't the backstage door?

"BOO!" someone shouted right behind me.

"AHH!" I yelled, and quickly turned around to see George laughing. "I thought you were a murderer or something!" I said trying not to smile, but failing miserably.

George's laughing died down a little. "I'm sorry, Julia," he said. "How about I make it up to ya?" He held out his hand to me, and I took it. Then he led me to the dance floor just as a slow song had begun playing. He gently put one hand around my waist while the other joined together with mine. We didn't really dance; we mostly just swayed to the music. I looked into his eyes; they were dark brown, and I got lost in their infinite depth. It was odd, because he's had a full life while I'm only 17. But at the same time, it just felt so right. I suppose watching Doctor Who has rubbed off on me a bit. In that TV show, the Doctor is over 900 years old but he doesn't look a day over 25.

As I stared deeply into his eyes, he looked into mine as well. After a few minutes, the band onstage began playing a faster song, but neither of us felt like dancing much anymore.

"Wanna go outside for a bit?" asked George.

"Sure," I smiled.

Still holding hands, we made our way through the crowd and stepped out the door. The night air had a slight chill, and I shivered in my sleeveless dress. George looked at me, then took off his suit jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders.

"But George, you'll get cold," I protested, shrugging it off.

"Don't worry about me, I'm perfectly warm," he replied. I still tried to take the jacket off, so he put his arm around my shoulders to stop me. I blushed, even though the gesture was probably not romantically intended. Thankfully, it was dark enough to prevent him from seeing.

"I did what you said, by the way," said George, his arm still around me.

"Huh?" I racked my brain, trying to remember what I had said.

"I went to the library and looked myself up on the computer. You were right."

So that's what he was talking about. "What did you find?" I asked a bit cautiously. He looked directly into my eyes.

"I watched a video on the Internet, and Paul and Ringo were talking about how much they missed me," he said a little sadly. I put a hand on his shoulder.

"Ringo had even written a song for me. All this time, I never knew," George began to get choked up. I turned to face him again and wrapped my arms around him. He leaned into me a bit and returned the hug.

"See? You were such a huge influence and people loved you. Don't ever think you will be forgotten," I said.

"Thank you, Julia," he murmured. We stayed hugging for a moment longer and then we broke apart, unfortunately. I enjoyed the feeling of his embrace.

"Fancy heading home?" I asked.

"Yes, I'm not really in the 'club' mood anymore," George replied. Together we walked up to the curb of the sidewalk and tried to hail a taxi. Funnily, the taxis were all bright, neon green. Finally managing to get one, George opened the door for me and we both slid onto the leather seat. The ride to the flat was mostly silent, but not awkward. That was one of the things I liked about George; he didn't feel the need to fill every silent moment with chatter.

The taxi eventually pulled up to the side of the street and let us out. George handed him his money stick-thingy (I forgot what it was called) and we walked up to the front door. George slid the key in and opened the door. Then I went to flick on the lights, but then I realized they were already on.

"I guess we forgot to turn the lights off before we left," I remarked mildly.

"But we never forget that. Stuart's practically obsessed with being all eco-friendly and all that," George responded.

"Then why are the lights on?" I wondered.

"Because we have a few questions for you."


	9. Chapter 9

George and I looked at each other worriedly, trying to have a silent conversation. Then, the worry in his eyes disappeared and he nodded at me encouragingly. I regained some confidence and looked at the two men standing before me.

They were dressed in all black, and with a sudden lurch in my stomach I realized that one of them was the one who was staring at me back at the club. I attempted to look confident as I said, "Why don't we sit in the living room? Would any of you like something to drink?"

I led them into the living room while George ran to the kitchen to fetch the (hopefully) hot pot of tea. I was grateful that Stuart had had the sense to neaten up the living room this morning; it would have been pretty embarrassing if I was leading these men into a room filled with one of John's many messes. I sat on the small couch, while one of the two men took a seat on the chair. The other stayed standing. Then George reentered with four cups of tea, one for each of us. He placed the tray on the table and sat down next to me.

"What would you like to ask us?" George addressed the men.

"Questions regarding a recent mystery in the Afterlife. We spotted you at the club and thought you would be good candidates for questioning," responded the seated man calmly.

"Yeah, I did take notice to your staring," I said in an annoyed voice.

"Ye can't just creepily stare people down at a club, ya know," said George, glaring at them. Then he looked at me softly, and said, "Why didn't you tell me? They could've hurt ye."

I shrugged nonchalantly, but I was secretly happy that he felt protective of me.

"Anyway," interrupted the man who was standing. "There has been a huge increase in Mist appearances lately and we are inquiring as to whether either of you know anyone who is an unregistered Mist appearance."

"Would ye care to tell us who you are first?" asked George.

He huffed impatiently and said, "We are prohibited from revealing any information. Now, have either of you two known or seen any unregistered Mist appearances?"

"How're we supposed to know who they are if they're unregistered?" George asked smartly.

"Well we have found several people hiding Unregistered's with them.

"What did you do to them?" I asked, trying to contort my face into an innocent expression.

The seated man looked sharply at me. "The person hiding the Unregistered was put in prison and the Unregistered was…disposed of."

"Well what if the Unregistered didn't know they were supposed to be registered?" I shot back angrily. "How do you expect someone coming from the Mist to know anything? I didn't even know that I was dead when I arrived there!"

They looked at me suspiciously. "I mean-when I arrived here, of course, not the Mist," I added, a bit nervously.

The man nodded, but still looked suspicious.

"We do not know anybody who is an unregistered Mist arrival, to answer your question," George said calmly, now glaring at them.

"Well, I guess we are done here. Thank you for your time," said the man standing.

George nodded curtly and showed them to the door. I stayed sitting on the couch, realizing for the first time how dangerous a situation I was in. What if they found out that I was an Unregistered? What would happen to George, Stuart, and John?

Footsteps snapped me out of my thoughts. I looked up to see George walking into the living room with John and Stuart. They must've gotten back from the club. I felt awful, and incredibly guilty. I've put them in so much danger. Realizing this, I walked briskly out of the living room and upstairs to my bedroom. _I wish I had gone to the Admin the moment I knew that I was unregistered_, I thought. _Now look what I've gotten myself into! _A small tear escaped my eye and rolled down my cheek. Then I heard the door open. It was George.

"Julia, are you okay?" he asked gently.

"No, I am not okay!" A few more tears escaped. "How can I possibly be okay when you, John, and Stuart are all in danger now? What if they find me? What'll happen to us? I don't want any of you guys getting hurt on my account."

George sat down beside me on the bed and put an arm around me, giving me a small squeeze. "Julia, please don't cry. We'll all be fine. John, Stuart, and I don't mind the risk at all. Don't worry about us. If anything, I'm-I mean we, are more worried about your safety than ours."

"Thanks, George," I replied, still sniffling a bit.

"Now stop your crying, Julia," said George. "Let me see that beautiful smile o' yours." I attempted a small smile, but it came out more like a watery smirk. Then George poked me a couple of times in the stomach, and I couldn't help but giggle and push his hands away.

"See, there it is," George said, both of us smiling now. "Come 'ead, let's go back downstairs to the others." He held out his hand and I took it, blushing slightly.

"Ah, there are the lovebirds!" said John as George and I entered the living room. We both blushed.

"Oh, shut up, John," I responded. "George and I are just friends." As I said that, I couldn't help but wish we were more, but I was also nervous. How did I know if George even liked me that way?

George just plopped himself down on the couch silently while I sat cross-legged on the big comfy chair. Immediately after I sat down, however, I got right back up. I didn't want to sit where those two men had sat. Instead, I took a seat on the floor in front of the couch, in front of George and Stuart. John grabbed the remote and flipped on the telly. _Oh god, I'm starting to pick up the Liverpudlian vernacular. _

"So, what did those two wankers want?" asked John.

I decided to answer. "They were going around searching for Unregistered's," I said quietly.

"Shit," said John.

"What do ye reckon' we do?" asked Stuart.

I sighed and looked at George. "There's nothing we can do. Even if I turn myself in, you'll all be in danger."

"What if you went to the Admin and told 'em you just died, so they can properly register you?" asked Stuart.

"No, they'd probably figure it out. I know I haven't been here very long, but from what I've heard, the Admin isn't that daft," I said.

"She's right, ya know," said George. "It's way too risky."

"I guess we shouldn't do anything, at least not yet," I said.

"Agreed," replied Stuart. Then it was silent for a while, each of us contemplating the recent events.

"Gosh, I thought death and the Afterlife were supposed to be peaceful. No stress, you know?"

"Well, usually it's okay," said George.

"Yeah, it was all peace and quiet until you came along," said John jokingly.

"Oh yes, I'm sure it was very peaceful with you here," I retorted. George and Stuart laughed.

"With John around, it can never be 100% peaceful," said George laughing.

"Hey! I am a perfectly well-behaved young lad!" said John.

"Young? If this were life, you'd be 72 years old. And I hardly think your very behaved," I said with a smirk.

""Yeah, well, what're you gonna do, eh," he replied smirking. It was silent for a while, and then I announced that I was going to bed after this long day. George agreed, saying that he was tired as well. He followed behind me as I walked up the wooden staircase.

"Keep the noise down up there, will ya? Some of us would like to get some sleep tonight!" yelled John. I heard a faint laugh from Stuart, and I walked back down a few steps so I could see John's face.

"John, shut it," I replied. He just laughed. I rolled my eyes and went back upstairs where George was standing in the hallway.

"John will be John, eh?" said George with a sigh, yet slightly smirking.

"Indeed he will," I said, and walked to my room to change into pajamas: a Queen t-shirt that I picked up at the mall, a pair of comfy sweat pants, and fuzzy socks. I could never go to bed without fuzzy socks, and I was eternally grateful when I saw them dangling from a little plastic hook among other socks at the store.

Then I made my way to the bathroom, and I saw George going towards it as well.

"Uh, you could go first if you want," I said.

"It's alright, you go," he replied.

"No, really, I'm fine, you go."

"Ladies first," he retorted, smiling that adorable, cheeky, "George" smile. I couldn't help but smile and give in to our childish argument.

"Alright, fine, I'll go," I said, rolling my eyes playfully.

After brushing my teeth and scrubbing off my makeup, I let George have the bathroom and I sat on my bed. I thought back to John and George's conversation I had overheard in the kitchen the other day.

_ "But seriously, what're we gonna do when the guards find out about her? I don't want her to be in danger."_

_"And why do ye care so much about 'er, eh Georgie?"_

_"Oh shaddup, John. Now's not the time fer that."_

_"But isn't it? She's alone, she's got no one to care for her, and she's clueless. Sounds like the perfect time to me."_

_"If it sounds so perfect, then why aren't _you_ goin' after 'er?"_

_"Do ye want me to?"_

_"NO!"_

_"So ye do care about 'er."_

_George let out a loud sigh. "Yes, but I feel guilty 'bout leaving Olivia and Dhani."_

_"You're dead. You already left 'em. Besides, it's about time for you to start anew. I did."_

_"I still feel guilty, though. And don't you feel guilty about leavin' Sean and Yoko?"_

_"I did at first, but I realized they're in another world right now. And it's not like I'll never see 'em again, which is why I don't get involved in anything long-term."_

_"But it's been thirty-two years now fer you, and fer me it's only been eleven."_

_"Well, s'yer choice."_

So George _did_ like me, but he felt guilty about leaving Olivia and Dhani, which is completely understandable, of course. John said he didn't feel guilty anymore, and I guess that makes sense since it's been such a long time for him. But then again, this is John we're talking about. I guess I would just have to give George time.

I realized suddenly that I wasn't tired. I stared around the room for a bit, looking at my minimal furniture and white walls. I felt like something was missing, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. I knew it wasn't color, because my room back home was similar, with a bed and a desk surrounded by pale walls. Home. Should I even be calling it that? I don't live there anymore, and I highly doubt I'm ever going back. But it felt slightly odd to call this place home. I suppose I would have to give that time, as well.

A knocking on my door snapped me out of my thoughts, and I walked up to open it.

"Oh, hi George."

"I just wanted to come say good night," he said with a soft smile. I smiled back.

"Well? I'm not gonna stand here all night, you know. Say it," I replied cheekily.

He laughed a little. "Good night, Julia," he said softly. Then, he leaned down and placed a quick, soft kiss on my cheek. "Good night," he said again more shakily, and turned around to go back to his room.

Blushing to the roots of my hair, I whispered, practically to myself, "Good night, George."


	10. Chapter 10

I squinted as the sunlight hit my sleepy face. Stretching, I made my way to the bathroom to splash some water on my face.

It had been two weeks since the not-so-friendly visit from those two men, and we hadn't seen them since. As for George and I, nothing had happened between us since he kissed me on the cheek that one night, unfortunately. I didn't want to push him, though, so I let that matter rest.

I went downstairs, and noticed that it was awfully quiet. I guessed no one was up yet. Not quite hungry, I plopped myself down on the couch and flipped on the TV. Of course, nothing good was on, so I turned it off and just stared around the room. After a minute, my eyes fell upon a beautifully crafted acoustic guitar. It was leaning gracefully against the corner where two walls met, its smooth curves contrasting wonderfully with the metallic, steel strings. My sudden desire to play nearly imploded my brain.

I slowly got up off the couch and walked over to where the beautiful creature was waiting, waiting to be played. I was surprised that I had never noticed it before, having been in the living room many times. I grabbed it gently by the neck and put on the worn strap. Then I went back to the couch and sat, so that the curve of the guitar fit like a puzzle piece on my right thigh. I plucked each string to make sure they were in tune, and thankfully they were. Placing my left hand fingertips precisely on the fret board to form an Fadd9 chord, I strummed the beginning chord to "A Hard Day's Night." I smiled as I strummed some more chords. I could almost hear the rusty sound of my hand muscles waking up like an old machine after a long time of not being used.

After a few minutes, my hands were fully warmed up and I began plucking out the tune to "Blackbird." I tried to play quietly at first, but I couldn't help myself as the wonderful and slightly twangy sound of the strings reached my ears. I played a bit louder now, not really caring if I woke anyone up. I played some more songs, including "Something," which was my favorite. My fingers slid easily along the strings as I played my way through the smooth, beautiful solo.

"You're very good, ya know," I heard a voice say right behind me. I jumped a little and turned around to see George standing behind the couch.

"Oh, m'sorry I scared ya," he apologized.

I smiled a little and said, "It's okay. I'm sorry for taking your guitar; I should've asked you first."

"It's alright, I don't mind. I didn't know ye played," he said, smiling.

"Yeah, I learned when I was eight. My friend, Julian, taught me," I replied, suddenly realizing that I had forgotten about him in the past few weeks. "I haven't played in a while; I think I stopped when I was diagnosed with cancer. Julian kept urging me to play, saying it would be good for me, but I never did. Don't know why though," I paused for a minute. "I miss him; I feel horrible because I've forgotten about him over the last few weeks." I felt the waterworks beginning to form in my eyes.

George, who was still standing behind the couch, hopped over it and sat next to me. He put his arm around me and I let the rest of my tears escape. I leaned my head onto his shoulder, hoping he wouldn't mind.

"I'm sorry," I said.

"Fer what?" asked George.

"Crying over something that happened a long time ago."

"Don't be sorry fer that, Julia. S'only natural to miss yer best friend. I bet he misses you, too, ya know.

I tried to picture what Julian's reaction would have been when the doctors pronounced me dead. That only made me sadder. I sniffled a bit and George handed me a tissue.

"Thanks," I said.

"S'no problem." It was silent for a while after that, when suddenly George asked,

"So what else can you play?" I smiled.

"Just a few songs here and there."

"Can I hear?"

"Well…"

"Please?"

"Fine. But only if you play for me as well."

"Fine by me," said George smiling. He hopped up and ran to get his guitar. I thought about wat I should play for him.

When George came back, he sat on the chair opposite where I was, holding his acoustic guitar. He didn't have a strap for it.

"Any requests?" he asked me.

"Hmm…whatever you want to play." Then I heard the opening notes to the song "For You Blue."

_Because you're sweet and lovely girl, I love you_

_Because you're sweet and lovely girl, it's true_

_I love you more than ever girl, I do_

George looked directly at me while he played, and I couldn't help but wish he were singing the song for me. His voice was sweet and melodic, and his deep brown eyes reflected warm light, causing golden specks to appear.

_I loved you from the moment I saw you_

_You looked at me, that's all you had to do_

_I feel it now, I hope you feel it, too_

When the song was over I smiled widely and said, "You're a really wonderful musician, you know." He looked down and smiled sheepishly.

"Yeah, well, I'm no Mozart. But ta anyways," he said. "Now, I believe it's your turn to play me something."

I gulped a bit, realizing that I would be playing guitar for one of the most famous guitarists of all time. _Don't worry, Julia, it's only George._

"Um, can I borrow your guitar pick?" I asked.

"Sure," he said and handed it to me.

Placing my fingers on the fret board, I began playing a tune that I had always felt comfortable playing. As the first few notes of "Here Comes The Sun" flowed out of the guitar, I relaxed into the song. I looked away from my left hand and up to George, who was staring at me with a faint smile on his face. I started to sing the lyrics, and he joined in after a few lines. I smiled as I sang, and so did he.

For a minute, it reminded me of the times I used to sing this song with Julian, but those memories quickly vanished as I decided to live in the moment. _This was George, not Julian, _I thought.

I finished playing and carefully set the guitar against the wall.

"You're really good, Julia. You should jam with us sometime." Jam? With George Harrison, John Lennon, and Stuart Sutcliffe? Hell, yeah!

"I'd be honored," I replied enthusiastically. Then I said, "I'm getting kind of hungry now. Should I go make something?"

"Sure, I'm getting pretty hungry meself," George responded.

I went into the kitchen and cooked eggs and bacon. Suddenly, I remembered that it was December 23 and I wondered aloud, "Do the dead happen to celebrate Christmas, by any chance?"

"'Course we do. Christmas is quite universal."

Even though I was Jewish, my dad was Catholic so we had always celebrated Christmas with his side of the family.

"I think John is inviting a bunch of people over for it this year," said George. "It's a wonder how we manage to fit everyone in this place, but somehow we are able to do it."

I laughed. "Yeah, I can imagine." Just then, John and Stuart entered the kitchen, in their pajamas and looking sleepy.

"Are those eggs I smell?" asked Stuart.

"Fresh out of the pan," said George.

We gathered around the table and began eating. "So, a little birdie told me you're throwing a Christmas party," I said to John.

"And what little birdie was this?" he replied.

"Oh, I think the name started with a G; Geoffrey, or Gerard; I can't seem to remember," I said.

"Georgina?" asked John.

"Ah, yes! That was it!" I said.

"'Ey!" shouted George, smiling slightly. We just laughed.

"So who did you invite?" I asked curiously.

"Just some friends and family, nothing too big."

"That's what 'e says every year, but then we end up smushed against walls 'cause there isn't enough room," said Stuart.

"Oh, God, remember last year?" said George. John started laughing.

"What happened?" I asked.

"John's aunt Mimi accidentally drank one too many…" began Stuart.

"…and she went a bit wild," finished George, laughing along.

"And my uncle George, well, him being him, was a bit too pissed himself to help bring 'er to 'er senses," said John, shaking his head and laughing.

"Mind you, most of our Christmases aren't that wild," said John.

"Last year was an exception, then?" I asked, giggling a bit.

"You bet," said Stuart.

As I finished my breakfast, I tried to think about whom John had invited. Would there be other famous people? Would their families be there?

I went upstairs and got dressed, planning my day out in my head. I had to go shopping for Christmas presents and I was quite excited to. Then, I realized that I didn't have a car. The stairs creaked a bit as I ran down them.

"Um, George? I want to go Christmas shopping but I don't have a car," I said.

"You could borrow mind if you'd like," George offered kindly. "Just don't crash it," he added jokingly. I laughed.

"Thank you, and don't worry, your car will be perfectly safe with me," I assured him.

"S'no problem," he replied. I smiled as he gave me his keys.

With the keys in the ignition, I started George's car. It roared to life and I easily pulled out of the spot where he had parallel parked the day before. There was no traffic whatsoever on the highway, thankfully, so I arrived at the mall in only ten short minutes. _Time to begin shopping! _

Back at the house:

George's POV:

I gave Julia my car keys and she took them gratefully. She laughed her beautiful laugh when I joked with her and told her not to crash my car. Then she walked out the door, her curly brown hair bouncing with her step. I never realized, but I suppose if you had cancer, you get your hair back when you die. Julia had told me that the chemo and radiation made 'er hair fall out.

I really liked Julia. I could tell I was falling for her. I was just so bloody conflicted. John said to forget about Olivia. But how could I? She was me bloody wife! And what would happen when she dies and arrives here?

To get my mind off things, I picked up my guitar and brought it over to the couch. Playing guitar had always calmed me down when I angry or stressed. Well, that and gardening. Unfortunately, there wasn't really enough room for a garden here.

I started playing some old familiar tunes, when suddenly I began playing something unfamiliar. _Hmm… _I thought. I continued playing the unfamiliar tune, improvising as I went along. Then I saw Stuart sit down on the chair across from me with his bass. He started fingering a bass line to go along with my song. I had to admit, we sounded pretty good.

"We should show it to John," I said.

"What, for his _approval_?" Stuart replied sarcastically.

"So we could record it," I rolled my eyes.

"Alright, I'll go get him," said Stuart. "JOHN!"

John, who was in the kitchen, yelled back, "I'm not bloody deaf ya know!" I chuckled, and John walked into the living room.

"Now what's so bloody important that you had to yell my ears off?"

"We've got a new song to show you. It's good," I said.

After Stuart and I played the song, John nodded his head and smiled. "We should definitely record that. I'll book Studio 4 for after Christmas."

Christmas! I had completely forgotten. I still had to get gifts for everyone. I wondered what Julia would want. Should I get her jewelry? Maybe clothes, or-

"George!" John snapped me out of my thoughts.

"Oh, yeah, Studio 4's good," I said absentmindedly.

John raised his eyebrows. "I was asking if you were hungry. Stuart and I are gonna have lunch."

"Oh. Um, yeah, sure, I'll have something." John and Stuart shared glances and smirked.

We ate lunch in silence, mostly because we were all very hungry.

"So, you let Julia take your car?" asked John.

I looked at him and Stuart, suspecting that they were up to something.

"Yes," I answered back casually.

"What if she crashes it?" asked Stuart.

"I trust her not to."

"You must have a lot of faith in 'er then. I know how you love your cars," said John. I already knew where this was going.

"Guys, just spit out what you're trying to say, yeah?"

"We think you should ask Julia out," said Stuart. I looked at them in shock trying to form a coherent thought.

"But I…I don't-" I stuttered. So much for coherent.

"It's bloody obvious ye like 'er, mate," John said. "I know I can be daft sometimes, but I'm not blind." Stuart nodded along. Can't they ever just leave my love life alone?

I sighed. "I'll think about it."

John and Stuart smiled and turned away to go clean off their plates, leaving me alone to contemplate my thoughts. Suddenly, I heard a screech of tires in front of the house and a car door slam. I ran to the window to see what was going on. However, the front door flew open to reveal a teary-eyed and frightened-looking Julia, before I could even stand up.

Julia's POV:

I arrived at the mall at 10 o' clock sharp and pulled into the magical parking lot. Upon entering the mall, I became overwhelmed by all the stores. I had absolutely no clue what to get George, John, and Stuart, so I decided to start out with what they liked the most: music. I walked over to a directory to see if there were any music stores, and sure enough there was one on the second level.

The store, called The Music Den, was filled to the brim with guitars, pianos, drum kits, and every possible accessory to go with them. I wandered around for a bit, trying to think of what to buy. Then, something caught my eye. A beautiful brown, leather guitar strap with orange and yellow embroidery was hanging from a hook among other guitar straps. It would coordinate beautifully with George's acoustic guitar.

After purchasing the strap, I left the music store and I walked into a tiny art store that was cluttered with everything from paintbrushes to portfolios. I could probably find something for Stuart here. I ended up buying a nice set of watercolor paintbrushes because I remembered him mentioning that his had become brittle.

John was the easiest. I found a cozy little bookshop next to the art store. There was a section that sold books in sets by author. I quickly spotted a collection of books and poems by Lewis Carroll, one of John's favorite authors.

Carrying my bags into the parking lot, I noticed a group of men getting into a big black van. They were talking in hushed voices with serious expressions plastered onto their faces. One of them turned around and caught me staring, so I quickly turned away and walked briskly to George's car.

I threw the bags in the back and shoved the key into the ignition, wanting to get away from those men ASAP. After making sure no one was behind me, I backed out and sped out of the mall parking lot.

I drove down the road and after a couple of minutes, I decided to turn on the radio. Coincidentally, My Sweet Lord by George Harrison was playing. I smiled to myself as I listened to my favorite voice in the world. All of a sudden, I noticed that someone was tailgating me. And with a jolt in my stomach, I saw that it was the same black van that was in the parking lot. I sped up a bit, trying to keep some distance between us. But the van just sped up along with me. I turned onto a random street that I wouldn't normally take, just to see if they would follow me. They did.

My paranoia settling in, I kept turning onto random streets to try to get away from the van. But it didn't make any difference, because they kept on following me, less than half a car length behind. Once I realized they weren't leaving me alone, survival instinct kicked in. I began speeding way above the limit, if there even was one. I also realized that I was lost.

Who were these people? What did they want from me? I knew I was an Unregistered, but nothing could have given that away.

I tried to find my way back to the main road, and eventually I saw signs for it. I sped up even more, and so did the van. My heart raced as I finally turned onto my street. I checked my rearview mirror, and I was grateful to see that the black van had vanished. Still speeding a bit, I pulled up in front of the small house and got out of the car quickly, slamming the door behind me. I stood on the sidewalk for a second, looking around myself to make sure all the coasts were clear. I then took notice to a large and very visible scratch on the side of the car. That must have happened as I turned, or rather skidded, onto my street. My breathing was heavy, and in light of all that was happening, I couldn't help the sob that made its way out of my body. Why couldn't anyone just leave me alone? I was dead for crying out loud! Wasn't death supposed to be peaceful?

I wiped my face with my sleeve, but a few more tears escaped as I opened the door to see a very worried-looking George standing before me.


	11. Chapter 11

I threw the door open and saw George standing in front of me, so I just ran and threw my arms around him. He gently put his arms around me as I cried into his shoulder.

"Shhh," George whispered, trying to calm me down a bit. "It's okay." I heard footsteps behind George, and saw John and Stuart out of the corner of my eye, looking worried.

George continued to comfort me, while I tried to form words in my dry mouth. "I-I'm sorry," I mumbled into his shirt.

"Fer what?" asked George, pulling his head back so he could look at my face.

"Your car," I said, tears still falling down my face like rain on a window.

"Is that what you're cryin' about?" he asked gently.

"Well, not just that," I replied.

"C'mon. Let's sit down," he said. With one arm still around my shoulders, George led me into the living room and we sat on the couch. My crying slowly subsided.

"Can you tell me what happened?" asked George. His voice was so sincere and comforting that it made me want to pour everything that happened out of my mind. So I did. I told him everything, from the black van to the giant scratch on his beautiful car.

"It's okay, Julia. It wasn't yer fault."

"I know, but I wish I could do something about it."

"Don't worry about it, really."

"How about we repaint it?" I suggested.

"I suppose we could do that," he replied. I t was silent for a bit, then I said,

"One of those men looked familiar."

"Do you think it was one of the two that questioned us?"

"Probably. But how could they possibly suspect anything?"

"I dunno," he said warily. Then John and Stuart walked in and sat down. They both looked worried.

"What's goin' on?" asked Stuart. I told them the story.

"It'll be alright. You're safe here," said Stuart.

I gave a small smile and said, "Thanks guys."

There was silence for a moment, and then John said, "C'mon, let's do something fun. I need to get out."

"John's right," said George. "Fer once," he added.

"Very funny," said John, rolling his eyes.

"How about that club a few blocks down?" suggested Stuart.

"That sounds good," said John. "Yeah," I agreed.

I went to the bathroom to clean up my tear-streaked face and put on a little makeup. Then, I threw on a blue skirt and a pair of flats. I grabbed my jacket in case it got cold later, and got into the car.

The ride to the club was fairly uneventful, besides an argument between John and George over Led Zeppelin versus Queen.

The club wasn't particularly crowded, partly because it was only 3 pm and partly because it was the day before Christmas. A band playing jazz and swing music stood on the small stage with their shiny brass instruments, moving with the music. Three or four tables lined the right wall, and a bar sat in the back left corner. Although the warm lights were dimmed, natural sunlight flowed in from the windows, lighting up tiny dust particles floating in the air. A young (or maybe old?) couple sat at one of the tables, and a few people were o the dance floor.

When we walked in, a few of the band members eyes lit up and widened a bit with recognition, and the woman at the table made a small hand gesture, pointing us out to her date. Then, thankfully, people went back to what they were doing.

"Care ta dance?" I turned around to see George with his hand held out to me.

"I'd love to," I said, grabbing his hand as he led me to the floor.

"I have to warn you, I've never properly danced to this kind of music before," I said.

"Don't worry, I have plenty of times. Just follow my lead," said George reassuringly. I smiled.

George took my left hand in his and put the other on the small of my back. I put my right hand on his shoulder, and we started dancing to the fast-paced, swing music that the band was playing. Trying to keep up as he twirled me around, I accidentally stepped on his foot.

"Sorry!" I said quickly.

"It's okay, don't apologize," he said as we kept dancing.

Without thinking, I said, "Sorry," again, and then we both laughed.

We danced for a long time, and only stopped because we realized it was getting late and the others had already left.

"The others probably went home with girls. Do you wanna go have dinner out?" asked George. Was he asking me out?

"Sure, I'd love to avoid unwanted sounds coming from the bedrooms in the house," I replied.

He laughed. "I'll get a taxi." We walked outside into the mild night air and George got the first taxi he saw. After telling the driver the name of a restaurant I'd never heard of, George looked at me.

"Did you have fun?" he asked.

"I did. I never thought I could dance like that. Did you have fun?"

"I quite enjoyed it, yeah," said George with a smile.

We arrived at the restaurant at around 6:30 and sat across from each other at a booth. It was an Italian restaurant, so I decided to order spaghetti and meatballs. George ordered the same thing.

We laughed and talked and ate our delicious food. At one point, I looked at George and noticed a bit of tomato sauce on his nose.

"Um, George, you've got a little something on your nose," I said. George moved his eyes so he could see his nose and blushed a little. Then he took his napkin and tried to wipe it off.

"Did I get it?" asked George. It was still there.

"Not quite," I giggled. "Here," I said, and I took his napkin and reached across the table, gently wiping the tomato sauce off his nose. However, there was a tall, thin vase holding two white flowers in water, and I very unceremoniously knocked it over onto the floor as I was leaning over. It landed with a crash and pieces of glass shattered gracefully. George and I looked at each other, panicked. Then George smirked, and quick as lightning took out his silver money stick and scanned it over the little screen at the edge of the table in order to pay, while I grabbed my jacket and threw it on. Then he grabbed my hand and we bolted out the door before one of the waiters realized the source of the shattered vase.

"Oh my god! I can't believe I knocked over the vase!" I said as we both cracked up.

"Neither can I!" laughed George.

As we slowly calmed down, we heard the restaurant door open and saw a waiter run out holding pieces of the vase yelling, "Who did this? Where are you?"

"Crap!" I said and George and I sprinted away from the restaurant and up the sidewalk.

Once we thought we were far enough away, George and I looked at each other and burst out laughing again.

"Did you see the look on his face?" said George, still laughing.

"I know!" I said. "He looked like he was constipated!"

We finally called a taxi to take us back to the house, but we couldn't stop laughing. Every time we looked at each other, we would start up again.

"I don't think I've laughed this hard in ages," I said.

"You did kind of bring it upon yourself, ya know," said George.

I laughed. "It's not my fault you're a slob when you eat!"

"Hey! I'm not a slob!" George poked my side and I laughed.

"Oh, you know I was just kidding," I said smiling.

"Sure ye were," said George, but he smiled, too.

We got home and we were about to open the door when it was thrown open, and a girl who looked to be about 20 stumbled out, wearing her shirt backwards and a rumpled skirt. She pushed past us and ran down the street, calling for a taxi angrily. George looked at me and shrugged, and said, "Judging by the look on 'er face, John probably had something to do with it."

I nodded. "Yeah, probably."

We went in side and saw John sitting on the couch, scowling.

"Don't bother 'im, Julia," said George quietly. "He's in one of his moods." I looked at John and agreed with George. We went into the kitchen instead and a random thought cam to me.

"Do you want to bake brownies?" I asked.

George laughed. "That was random, but sure."

I got out the flour, eggs, and other ingredients we would need.

"Erm, I don't really know how to make brownies," said George, looking at all the ingredients lying on the counter top.

"It's okay, I'll show you," I replied with a smile. I began telling George to do this and that, while he obeyed and surprisingly got everything right. After pouring and adding everything to the bowl, I grabbed a large wooden spoon and started mixing. George stood next to me while I mixed.

"Can I 'ave a go?" he asked.

I smiled cheekily and replied, "Sorry, George. Mixing is for experienced brownie-makers only. Maybe next time."

"Pleeease?"

"Nope!"

I continued mixing, when suddenly I felt a soft puff of flour hit my left cheek. I looked at George and raised an eyebrow, half smiling.

"You don't wanna start that with me, George. I'm an experienced food-fighter," I said, throwing a bit of flour back at him.

"Oh are ye, now?" asked George, wiping his face. "'Cause I should have ye know that I grew up with two older brothers and an older sister. You may be experienced, but I'm an expert!"

As he said this, he grabbed a handful of flour and raised his arm, ready to throw. I laughed and ran around the kitchen while George chased me. Finally he caught me around the waist and dropped the flour on my head.

"George!" I yelled, laughing. I escaped his grip and ran back to the counter to grab more flour, which I then threw at George. Then I saw him grab an egg and my eyes widened.

"George, don't you dare!" I said.

"Oh, I dare," he replied with a big smile on his face.

I backed away slowly and grabbed an egg for myself. Then I thought, _what the hell_, and I ran toward George. He tried to run away, but I was quicker and I reached up and cracked the egg over his head, letting the yoke drip down his mop top and down to his face. He looked at me and smiled evilly.

"You are _so_ going to get it!"

I tried to run but he caught me by the arm and pulled me to him. I would have been blushing like mad, but I barely had the time to do so because George suddenly dug his fingers into my side. I squealed and started to laugh my head off.

I kept trying to escape, but he was too strong and the tickling made me weak. By now, he had me pinned to the kitchen floor and his long fingers were tickling my stomach and sides.

"George, stop!" I half yelled, half laughed. He slowed down to just poking my stomach while I giggled.

"Say 'please'" said George. He was laughing almost as much as I was.

"PLEASE!" I begged. The tickling finally came to a stop, and I realized that George was practically lying on top of me. Blood rushed to my face, but George remained calm. He looked into my light brown eyes, and it felt as if he was reaching the innermost depths of my soul. His eyes were a deep, warm brown, and looking into them, I could see a long, full life held behind them. Mine must've looked much shallower to him, since my life was cut shorter than his. Then he started to lean in.

"What the bloody 'ell happened in here-oh, erm…" a voice cam from around the other side of the island. John emerged. "Well I'll just leave you two lovebirds alone," he said, slightly smirking. There seemed to be something off about his smirk, but he simply walked back out of the room. George must've noticed because he started to lift himself off of me.

"I'm going to check on him," was all he said before he got up and walked out after John. I sighed, but I realized then how close George and John really were. They supported each other, and that thought made me smile.


	12. Chapter 12

Christmas had finally arrived! Today was the 24th, Christmas Eve. John had gone out yesterday to get a tree, which we had quite a time decorating. I neatly wrapped all my presents and placed them under the Christmas tree.

"I've decided to only invite friends this time. Last year was just too stressful with all our families here," said John.

"Thank goodness," said Stuart with a look of relief on his face. "Me mum was starting to get on me case."

Suddenly the phone rang, a loud shrill noise that made me jump. George went over to it and picked it up.

"Hello?...Er, yeah, she's here, who're you?...Er, alright, hang on a sec." George took the phone away from his ear and covered the speaker. "S'fer you, Julia. He didn't tell me who he was."

I took the phone from him and curiously put it to my ear. My fingers played with the neatly coiled wire as I spoke.

"Speaking?" I asked politely.

"Julia? Is that really you?" asked an oddly familiar voice. Then it hit me, and my heart almost exploded with my realization.

"Julian?! Is it you?" I asked hopefully.

"Julia, it's me, it's me! Oh my god, I've missed you like crazy! Where are you? Are you okay? Oh, this is all my fault! I…"

"JULIAN!" I yelled to shut him up. "How are you even calling me?"

"I just got here, I'm at the Administration right now. They asked me all these questions and then they asked me if I had anyone here. The first person I thought of was you so they gave me your number and I called!"

They have my number? That's impossible; I'm unregistered, they shouldn't have any information about me! Deciding I would deal with that later, I asked, "So what happened?"

"Well they gave me your number and some guy picked up – who is he anyway? And then I…"

"Julian," I interrupted him again. "I meant why are you here? How did it happen?" There was a short silence.

"I think I'd better tell you in person because they're only giving me a few minutes on the phone. What's your address?"

I have him the address of the place and then I gently hung up the phone. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Julian was dead, but he was here, and I could see him again. I walked slowly into the living room and three pairs of eyes turned to me, waiting for an explanation.

"Um, remember the boy named Julian I told you about?" George nodded while the others looked confused.

"Well, he was my best friend when I was alive, and now he's…here." I sat down on the couch next to George and hugged my knees to my chest.

Why did I feel so happy that Julian was dead? Well the obvious answer is because I get to see him again, but did that make me selfish? I knew I should feel sorry that he didn't get to live a full life, but my sorrow could even come close to overpowering my desire to see him, like a lamb against a lion.

"Is it normal to feel this happy when a loved one dies?" I asked, mostly to myself.

"Feeling happy doesn't make you selfish, Julia. It makes you human," answered George, as if knowing exactly how I felt.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right," I replied, a small smile appearing on my face. "Why don't we watch TV while we wait for him?"

"Whoa, hold up. Julian's coming here?" asked John.

"Yeah, I gave him the address because he doesn't have anywhere else to go."

"We don't have any extra bedrooms," said Stuart.

"I'll just sleep on the couch. He could take my room," I said.

"No, Julia, that's not right. I'll sleep on the couch, you could take my room, and Julian can take yours," said George.

"But that's not fair to you, George," I said.

"Yeah, he's just some random bloke," said John.

"That's not what I meant," I said to John.

"I think he should…" started Stuart, but he was interrupted by the sound of our doorbell that made my heart skip a beat. I froze for a second, but then I jumped off the couch and made my way to the door. During the 7-second journey, thoughts were racing a mile a minute through my mind. What if this was all a hoax? What if it wasn't really Julian? These thoughts disappeared immediately once I could make out a head of curly, brown hair behind the glass windows on the door. I unlocked it and opened it, slowly revealing my best friend.

"Hey carrot top," said Julian, a huge smile on his face. I closed the two-foot gap between us by throwing my arms around him, and he squeezed me in a bone-crushing hug.

"I can't believe it's really you," I mumbled into his shirt.

"I've missed you so much." He kept holding on to me as if I was suddenly going to disappear.

"Me, too," I said. Suddenly, I felt Julian loosen his grip on me. I looked up at him to find that he was staring, mouth hanging open, at the three men standing behind me. Then he looked at me with the most bewildered face I'd ever seen, and I laughed.

"Come on, I need to properly introduce you."

"But they're…" started Julian in disbelief.

"Yes, they are," I responded, smiling.

Julian and I walked up to George, John, and Stuart, him a step behind me.

"Julian, this is George Harrison, John Lennon, and Stuart Sutcliffe. George, John, Stuart, this is Julian Pierce, my best friend."

"Nice ta meet you," said George, while I heard John mumble, "Ooh, friend-zoned." Stuart nudged him in the side.

"Nice to meet you, Julian," said Stuart, and John followed suit.

Julian still stood with his mouth agape, staring at the men who had always been idols to him. Then again, I suppose his reaction was much better than mine, seeing as I fainted in front of the boys upon my arrival. Sometimes I still found it hard to believe that I was actually living with George Harrison, John Lennon, and Stuart Sutcliffe, so I could only imagine how Julian was feeling.

"Julian?" I asked, waving my hand in front of his face. He blinked a few times and looked at me, then looked at George, John, and Stuart.

"Um, nice to meet you all," he said, still in complete awe.

John laughed and said, "How old are ya, kid?"

"I'm 18," Julian said a bit defensively.

"Really now? 'Cause ye look about 15 to me," answered John. Annoyance was starting to grow on Julian's face.

"Shaddup, John," said George.

"What? 'M only teasin'. Can't 'e take it?"

"John, stop it," I said sternly.

"So 'e needs his girl ta defend him now, eh?"

"I'm not his girl, John. C'mon, Julian, let's go." I grabbed his hand and started walking towards the door. Then I threw it open and walked outside, Julian right behind me.

"Where are we going?" asked Julian.

"Just for a walk. As you can see, John's being an arse hole right now," I answered, rolling my eyes.

"No kidding. So how did you end up with them anyways?"

I told him the story of George finding me in the Mist, and I also explained my current situation to him. He looked worried, but I assured him that I was safe with George, John, and Stuart. We walked down a few blocks and found a small, wooden bench to sit on.

"Julian, are you gonna tell me how you died?" I asked. We sat there in silence, rays of light coming from who knows where radiating through the trees and warming our faces. After some time, Julian gave a sigh and answered my question.

"I did it."

"Huh?" I said in confusion.

"I did it, Julia. _It_."

I looked at him with sad eyes. "Why?" Julian didn't look at me, but instead stared straight ahead.

"I was tired of it. Of everything. Society, institution, people telling you to do this and do that, and not having a choice in any matter whatsoever."

"What about your parents?"

"That, too. My dad left about a week after…well, you know. And I was just so sick of the ridiculous absurdity and complexity of life. What's the point of it, anyway?" I nodded, trying to sympathize with him.

"I just felt like I didn't belong there anymore. That world just wasn't for me." We sat in silence again, and I held his hand as he vented to me.

"How?" I asked, almost not wanting to hear the answer.

"Well, you know that old gun in my dad's draw?"

"Oh, Julian." I leaned my head on his shoulder.

"At the last second, I almost decided not to go through with it. But I did."

"I'm sorry. I wish I could have been there."

"It's not your fault, Julia. Don't ever blame yourself for any of this."

"I can't help it, though. I wish you hadn't done it, but I guess I understand why you did."

"I mostly did it because of you. Not that you had any direct part in it, of course," he added hastily. "But Julia, life was awful without you, and it hadn't even been a month. And I just wanted to say that…" Where was he going with this? I looked at him, confused.

"You mean so much to me. I've always liked you, Julia, for as long as I can remember. Since the day you tripped over that rock in the park, in fact." I lifted my head off his shoulder and looked at him. "It's okay if you don't feel the same way. I just wanted you to know the truth," he added.

"I'm sorry, Julian. I don't like you in that way, you're my best friend," I said. Why did this have to happen to me?

"It's alright." He paused and then said, "Is there someone else?"

I immediately blushed, thinking of George. "Um…"

"Oh, come on, you can tell me," said Julian. "As my best friend, you are required to tell me everything." He smirked at seeing my red face. "There is someone, isn't there? Who?"

"Um…it's George." Julian smiled, and then put on a thoughtful face.

"Isn't he a little old for you?"

"Age is but a number here. You can choose to look any age you want."

"I can choose to look really old if I wanted?"

"Well, only ages you were alive for," I explained.

"Oh," replied Julian. "So, you and George, huh? Who would've thought?" He laughed a little.

"Well, we're not actually together. I don't even know if he likes me."

"How can he not? You're amazing."

I smiled. "Thanks, but I don't think it'll ever happen."

"You never know. But if he ever hurts you he'll have to face me."

I laughed. "Okay, sure," I said, my voice laced with sarcasm.

"What? You don't think I can take him?" I laughed harder.

"Well, you're not exactly Muhammad Ali, are you?" I said.

"I'm stronger than you think, you know."

"Oh, yeah?" I challenged.

"Yeah!" he said, and with that he scooped me up in his arms and ran around on the grass.

"Julian, put me down!" I yelled, laughing. "Don't drop me!" I put my arms around his neck and held on for dear life.

"But you just said to put you down!" he exclaimed, still holding me.

"Oh, you know what I mean!" I said. Then out of the blue, he flipped me over and caught me again, and I screamed. Finally, he put me down and I hit his arm.

"What was that for?"

"You know how much I hate it when you pick me up!"

"Oh, you know you love it."

"Whatever you say," I said, smiling, and we started to walk back to the house. I was surprised but also grateful that Julian simply brushed off the fact that I didn't like him back. To me, he was just my best friend and at times acted like an older brother.

"So, where am I supposed to live around here?" asked Julian.

"You could live with us, if you'd like," I offered.

"Well, I don't want to impose. Plus John doesn't seem to like me very much."

"Oh, just ignore him. He'll warm up to you once he hears you play guitar."

"With George Harrison in the room, I highly doubt that."

"Don't underestimate yourself. There are loads of songs you know how to play that George doesn't, since you've experienced about ten years that George hasn't."

"Mm, I guess that's true. But then you add the fact that George was in the Beatles, and so therefore he wins."

I sighed. "Anyway, don't worry about John; he'll like you just fine. And you wouldn't be imposing at all."

"Alright." He paused. "Who'd ever thought I'd be living with some of the greatest musicians of all time?"

I let out a laugh. "Trust me, I still can't wrap my head around it." Julian laughed.

"I guess life really does go on, huh? I mean, according to the definition of "living," we're still alive, aren't we? We're only dead as the people down on Earth see it."

I nodded in agreement as we reached the house. "I never thought of it like that," I said as I opened the door.


	13. Chapter 13

When we walked into the house, Stuart was in the kitchen making beans on toast while George and John were sitting on the couch in the living room watching a movie on the TV. I took Julian into the kitchen because I figured he didn't want to deal with John at the moment.

"Hey, Stuart," I said. He stopped mixing the beans and turned around.

"Oh, hey Julia, Julian," he said. "Sorry about John, by the way. He doesn't know how to behave himself sometimes."

"Don't worry about it, it's no big deal," replied Julian.

"Do any of you guys want some?" offered Stuart, referring to the beans on toast.

"I'll have some, thanks. I haven't had a thing since I got here," Julian responded.

"They didn't feed you?" asked Stuart in surprise. Julian shook his head. "That's odd; I practically got a feast. Guess times 'ave changed."

"Yeah, guess so," said Julian. The three of us sat at the table and began eating. Suddenly, a look of realization came upon Julian's face.

"Holy crap! It's Christmas Eve!" Stuart and I laughed.

"Indeed it is," said Stuart.

"Do people celebrate it here?" asked Julian.

"Some do, some don't. We do, though. John's invited a few of our friends over tomorrow," responded Stuart.

"Yeah, and I'm expected to cook a turkey," I said.

"Hold up. You guys put Julia in charge of the cooking?" asked Julian with a smirk.

"Yeah, why?" asked Stuart curiously.

"Julia, do you remember when you tried to bake a cake for my birthday last year?" said Julian. I hit his chest lightly.

"I thought we agreed to never bring that one up again?" I said.

"No, it's okay, I'd love to hear this," said Stuart with a smile. Of course Julian would now be the ultimate source for all embarrassing stories about me.

"Well," Julian began. "It was my birthday and Julia wanted to bake a cake to surprise me. So she went to my house because she thought it would be nice if I could come home to find a birthday cake waiting for me. Then, at about 3:00, I came home to find a fire engine in the driveway and smoke pouring out of the kitchen window." Stuart burst out laughing, and I put my face in my hands.

"So you basically almost burned your best friend's house down?" asked Stuart.

"I didn't do it on purpose! The instructions on the recipe were incorrect!" I defended myself.

Stuart laughed. "Well, maybe we'll all cook the turkey together. I do quite like this house, after all," he teased.

"Yeah, it'd be a shame to see it in ashes," added Julian. Great, now I had the two of them ganging up on me.

"Oh, fine," I gave in. We finished eating and started to put our plates away.

"I guess it's a bit late for me to go out and get a present for you, Julia," said Julian, frowning.

"It's okay, don't stress about it. You only just got here," I responded. Stuart looked at Julian and then looked at me.

"Er, Julia, why don't you go watch telly with John and George fer a bit?" he said. I gave him a confused look, but obeyed anyway because I figured he wanted to talk to Julian privately. I had no idea why, though.

"Yes, father," I answered cheekily. Stuart rolled his eyes but smiled, and I walked into the living room where George was sitting cross-legged on the couch and John was sitting in a very odd position while he read a book. He was lying face up on the floor with one of his legs up against the wall and the other one bent in an awkward position on the floor. He looked comfortable, nonetheless. I sat next to George on the couch and folded my legs.

"Hi, Julia. How goes it?" George said.

"Good, I guess. Stuart just kicked me out of the kitchen and now he's talking to Julian. I think it's got something to do with Christmas," I explained. George smirked upon hearing the word "Christmas."

"What, you know about this, too?" I asked. He nodded. "Ugh, I hate being kept in the dark."

"Don't worry about it, Julia. It's a surprise," he said excitedly.

"Alright fine. I guess I'll just have to wait and see."

**Sorry it's so short; it's just a small transition chapter that will lead into the Christmas chapter. Thanks for all the reviews!**


	14. Chapter 14

On Christmas morning, the sun was shining over a fresh blanket of snow. Still in my pajamas, I put on my slippers and put my hands against the window only to find that it was freezing cold! It was 70 degrees yesterday, so the sudden chill shocked me. I shrugged it off, though, and figured it was just another great mystery of the afterlife. I walked downstairs to find Julian fast asleep on the couch. He insisted on sleeping there even though we had offered him a bed. I crept up to the side of the couch and then pounced on him. H blinked his eyes open and I bounced on him saying, "Julian, wake up! Wake up! It's Christmas!" This had been our tradition ever since I could remember; he would sleepover my house on Christmas Eve and whoever was up first would go and wake the other.

"Ahh! I'm up, I'm up!" laughed Julian.

"I'm gonna go wake the others," I said excitedly. I ran upstairs and decided to start with George. I walked down the hall to his door and opened it, only to reveal an empty, unmade bed and no George. Suddenly, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

"Lookin' fer someone?" I turned around to see George, wearing only a pair of boxers. My face turned beet red.

"Um, uhh…I was going to wake you up, but I guess I don't have to, now."

"Oh," he responded. "Well anyway, happy Christmas, Julia!" And with that, he gave me a quick hug that left my face even redder than before. I smiled, trying to hide my blush, and said, "Merry Christmas to you, too, George!" We stood there for another second.

"Erm, I suppose I'll go get dressed now," said George a little awkwardly. I giggled.

"Okay, I'll go and wake up the others." George went into his room and I walked next door into Stuart's room. He was sleeping peacefully on his bed, and I ran up to the side and yelled, "Merry Christmas!" in his ear. He awoke with a start.

"Bloody 'ell, what's goin' on?" then he noticed me and said, "What're ye getting' me up so early for, eh?"

"It's Christmas, silly!"

"Oh, right," he responded sleepily.

"Wanna help me wake John up?"

Stuart looked at me nervously and said, "Er, John tends to punch people if they wake him up too early."

"Then we'll just make a run for it before he lashes out."

"Well…alright, fine."

"Yay!" We opened the door to John's room, where he was sleeping soundly on his bed. Stuart looked at me and put his finger to his lips. "Shh," he whispered, and then said, "Be back in a minute." Huh?

After a few minutes of me awkwardly standing in John's room not knowing what to do, Stuart returned with a bucket of ice-cold water and an evil smile on his face. I laughed silently as Stuart crept up to the bed. Then he promptly dumped the entire bucket on John's face, and John's eyes immediately shot open.

"Fuckin' 'ell!" yelled John.

Stuart and I burst out laughing while John dried his face on his sheets. Then he gave the two of us a look, and we immediately bolted out of his room. John ran after us, and he caught me first, and then carried me downstairs.

"Ahhh! Help, I've ben captured!" I yelled to anyone who was listening. Stuart caught up to us and tackled John onto the floor, unfortunately taking me with them and leaving me at the bottom of the pile. I tried to think of something to distract them, so I pointed to the window.

"Look guys, it's snowing!" I yelled, a bit muffled by the weight on top of me. Stuart and John jumped up immediately and headed for the door.

"Where are you two off to, then?" I asked.

"Snowball fight, of course," replied John. "Want to join us?"

"Shouldn't you put on a jacket? It's freezing out there!" I remarked. They looked at each other and shrugged.

"We're grown men, we don't need winter jackets, do we John?" replied Stuart cheekily.

"Really?" I said, smirking. ""Cause you look about 20 years old to me."

"I'll take that as a compliment, seeing as I'm technically 73," said John.

"Do ye want ta come with us?" asked Stuart.

"Well, alright," I answered. "Julian, George, we're going outside for a snowball fight!" I yelled out to them, wherever they were. I heard George's footsteps coming down the stairs, and Julian came in from the living room. George grabbed his coat and then looked at me.

"Julia, you could borrow one of my sweaters if you'd like," he said, as I realized I didn't have a winter coat. I never thought to buy one when I'd gone shopping.

"Thanks, George," I said, and ran upstairs to George's room. I opened one of the drawers in his dresser to find that it was filled with his boxers. Oops! Wrong drawer, I guess. I opened a couple more and finally I found a draw full of cozy looking sweaters. I grabbed the first sweater on the top of the pile, a dark green one, and threw it over my clothes. It was a bit roomy, but that only made it more comfortable. Plus, it smelled like George. I went back downstairs to find that the boys had already gone outside. I opened the door and expected to see snowballs flying everywhere, but I didn't even find the boys. Where'd they go?

All of a sudden, a snowball hit my right arm and I heard someone, probably Julian, yell, "Attack!" Uh oh. Julian and Stuart popped out from behind a hedge and John and George popped out from behind another. I grabbed a large chunk of sparkly white snow and began running as fast as I could around the yard. George, being the fastest, caught up to me first, and I tried to throw a snowball at him, but my hands had turned numb so the snowball missed by a mile. George laughed and came over to me, and took an extra pair of gloves from his pocket.

"Here, take these," he said. I put on the gloves, warm from being inside George's coat.

"Thanks," I grinned. "My hands were becoming a bit numb."

"I noticed," he responded, returning my grin. "C'mon, let's go hide so we can surprise attack the others when the come around." We ran over to the tall hedge and hid behind it without the others noticing. Then, Julian, John, and Stuart stopped fighting and began to look for us. They walked right in front of the hedge, and George and I popped out from either side to attack them.

After another few minutes of vigorous snowball-fighting, we went inside and drank hot cups of tea.

"We should probably start cooking the turkey now," I remarked. They all agreed and so we went into the kitchen and put the turkey in the oven. Afterward, we took turns basting it every twenty or so minutes.

"Why do I feel like we're completely forgetting something?" I wondered aloud. George looked around and then his eyes grew wide.

"We forgot to open our presents!" he exclaimed.

"How the 'ell did we forget to open the bloody presents?" asked John. We all laughed and gathered in the living room. Stuart, John, and Julian piled on the couch before either George or I could. I sat cross-legged on the carpet and George took a seat on the big, comfy chair behind me.

"Alright, how about we take turns?" I suggested. The rest agreed and Stuart went first. He grabbed a gift with his name on it and tore off the wrapping paper to reveal a new set of nice watercolor paintbrushes, which was from me.

"Thanks a bunch, Julia," he said.

"No problem. I knew you needed new ones," I replied. John went next, and we went around until all the presents were opened. Stuart got the set of watercolor brushes from me, a watch from John, and a pair of leather gloves from George. John received a collection of Lewis Carroll books from me, and a new ukulele from George and Stuart. George got a set of nice guitar picks from John, a guitar pedal from Stuart, and the leather guitar trap from me.

"Julia, this is beautiful," he said grinning widely. "Thanks!"

"You're welcome," I said, slightly blushing. I, on the other hand, had not opened a single gift because they insisted that they save mine for last. George ran upstairs suddenly, but a minute later he came back down carrying a red Fender Stratocaster guitar with a thick silver ribbon tied around the neck. He walked up to me and placed the guitar gently in my lap. I gasped and my eyes widened.

"This is for me?" I asked in shock.

"Fer you, from the lot of us, including Julian as well," said George, grinning. I smiled widely.

"It's so beautiful. I don't even know what to say," I said, looking at it in awe.

"A thank you is usually a good start," said John cheekily. I giggled and leaned the guitar gingerly against the chair, and jumped up to hug George.

"I love it. Thank you so much," I said as I hugged him. Then I let go and hugged each of the others.

"Wait, there's still one left!" I said, taking out a small wrapped box. I handed it to Julian. "Merry Christmas, Julian!" Julian looked at me.

"Oh, thanks Jules," he said, using an old nickname for me. He unwrapped it and saw the gray Apple logo on the little white box. The box was labeled "iPod Touch." I figured Julian missed his old iPod, so I went to the mall last minute to buy him a new one.

"Wow, thanks!" he exclaimed, hugging me.

"I thought you might want to listen to all your favorite songs again."

"What is that exactly?" asked Stuart. John looked at it in confusion as well.

"Haven't you seen other people with iPods here?" I asked.

"Yeah, but I never quite got what it was," replied Stuart. "Yeah," added John.

"Guys, I've told a million times what it was! It's a music player," said George.

"But how does all the music fit in there? It's bloody tiny!" said John.

"There's a chip that holds all the music. It's electronic," I explained.

"Oh," responded Stuart, who was still evidently confused. I sighed.

"Julian, why don't you show them how it works? I'm gonna go check on the turkey," I said. Julian turned on the iPod and Stuart and John crowded around him.

I walked into the kitchen, and opened the oven. I injected the sauce into the turkey at various spots, savoring the wonderful smell that drafted upward into my nose. Then I pushed the tray back in and closed the oven door. Since it was already 3:00, I decided to start cooking the vegetables. Then I heard foot steps enter the kitchen and turned around to see George.

"How's the turkey doin'?" he asked, peering into the oven.

"Not very well," I said in mock-seriousness. "The poor thing never got to see its kids grow up and get married."

George smirked. "Did anybody ever tell ya that yer extremely cheeky?"

"No, but I suppose you just did," I replied, poking his chest. "So who exactly is coming for the party?"

"If I tell ya, are ye gonna start goin' all fangirl?" I shook my head.

"Liar," he smirked.

"Eh, yeah you're probably right," I giggled.

"It'll just be a surprise then, yeah?"

"I suppose so." I put the vegetables in the pot of boiling water on the stove, and then the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it!" I announced excitedly, wondering whom it could be. I opened the door to see that it was Keith and his date, along with John Entwistle.

"Oh, hey Keith." I said. "Hello, you're John, right?"

"Hello, Julia," replied Keith. "Oh, this is my girlfriend, Gwen," he added, motioning to the tall blond standing next to him. "And John, this is Julia."

"Nice to meet you," he said, and I smiled and shook hands with him and Gwen. After the formalities, Keith, Gwen, and John walked into the house and were greeted by John, George, and Stuart, who then introduced them to Julian. Then, the doorbell rang again. I wondered who it was this time. I opened the door and gasped.

"Oh, hello, darling."

"Freddie Mercury?" I said in a slightly high-pitched voice. He laughed lightly. His hair was fairly long, and he looked like he did when he was in his twenties.

"Yes, that's me, love. And who might you be?" he asked smiling.

"I'm Julia Brown," I replied a bit shyly.

"Are you the host of the party tonight?"

"Well, technically John is, but I am doing the cooking…oh crap, the turkey!" I said. "Um, I'll be right back!" Freddie just laughed and stood in the entrance hall, and I saw John go up to him to say hi. Meanwhile, I rushed into the kitchen, worried that the turkey might be burnt. I grabbed the handle to the oven door and pulled it open frantically, only to reveal a perfectly golden-brown turkey. _Thank the lord_.

I turned the oven off and walked back to the entrance where Freddie was talking to Julian, whose eyes were widened in awe. I giggled to myself, because I knew that Julian was an even bigger fan of Queen than he was of the Beatles. I walked up to the two of them.

"So, I see you've met Freddie, Julian" I said.

"Yeah, I have," he answered, star-struck. I had a feeling this wouldn't be our only star-struck moments of the night.

A half hour later, every guest had arrived and all formalities had been said. Lounging around the living room were friends and musicians that I had only ever dreamed of meeting: Keith Moon, John Entwistle, Freddie Mercury, John Bonham, Brian Jones, Brian Epstein, Jim Morrison, and Ray Manzarek. Jim brought Ray along last minute, and I learned that Ray, fellow Doors band member, Had just recently arrived in the afterlife.

At 4:00, the doorbell rang again. I walked out of the kitchen and into the small entrance hall, wondering who else could be coming. I opened the door and saw two women standing next to each other. The one on the left had strawberry blond hair and was wearing a fleece jacket while the latter had dark hair and eyes and was wearing a puffy winter coat. They were both carrying trays of food covered in foil. I knew who these two women were immediately.

"Are you Julia Brown?" asked the blonde woman.

"Yes, I am. And I suppose you're Linda McCartney," I replied, "and you're Maureen Cox?"

"Indeed I am," said Maureen.

"Yep, that's us," smiled Linda.

"Well, it's a huge pleasure to meet you two. Come on inside," I said warmly. They stepped inside and I took their coats. Then, I led them into the kitchen where they placed the trays on the counter.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Julia. John's told us all about you over the phone," said Linda.

"Did he, now?" I asked curiously.

Maureen nodded, and Linda said, "You're definitely prettier than what he described."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh god, I don't even want to know what he said." Maureen and Linda laughed.

"I guess that's John fer ya," said Maureen in her Liverpudlian accent. For the next hour, Maureen, Linda, and I stayed in the kitchen cooking various side dishes and chatting. It was nice to have some girls to talk to after living almost a month with three men.

At one point, Maureen excused herself to go the bathroom, leaving Linda and I in the kitchen. Our conversation started to become more serious, so I decided to ask her something.

"How do you feel about Paul remarrying?" I immediately regretted asking this, and I cursed my curious nature. However, Linda smiled to show that it was okay.

"I suppose it's a bit strange, seeing him walk down the aisle with another woman, but I'm happy for him. He's the kind of person who always needs to have someone, to be with someone, and if he didn't remarry he probably would've gone mad. I still love him of course, but I understand." I nodded, and changed the topic. I had always admired Linda because she seemed so kind and down-to-earth. Now that I've actually met her, we seemed to get along quite well.

Maureen came back into the kitchen and rejoined our conversation, and soon enough dinner was ready. Instead of sitting down at a long table for a traditional Christmas dinner, we did it buffet-style. Linda, Maureen, and I set out each dish lined up on the kitchen counter and on the table, with bottles of soda and beer standing on the small counter next to the oven.

"Dinner's ready!" I shouted to everyone in the living room. As everyone came rushing in, I suddenly felt to young and out of place. After all, I was only 17 and almost everyone around me was over 25 (with the exception of Stuart and Julian). I was the youngest one in the room, in fact, and I felt like a kid at a college party. Thankfully, George came to my rescue.

"Having fun?" he asked. I nodded.

"A blast," I replied smiling.

"Have ye met Brian yet? Epstein, that is." I shook my head.

"I was too busy in the kitchen so I think John answered the door that time," I responded.

"Well, come 'ead, then. I'll introduce ya." George took my hand and led me over to Brian, who was holding a plate of food and talking with Maureen, Freddie, and Julian. They were all laughing at something Freddie had said when we walked up to them. Brian Epstein looked younger than I had ever seen him in pictures, but he still sported a professional sports jacket and a purple tie.

"'Ey guys, how goes it?" George said as we approached. "'Ave ye met Julia?"

Brian shook his head, but Freddie and Maureen nodded.

"You're the one who opened the door for me earlier, right?" asked Freddie.

'Yep, that was me," I smiled.

"Well, Brian, this is Julia Brown," said George. "She's been living with John Stuart and I for the past few weeks. Just until she finds a place for 'erself," he added hastily. Wait, they were planning on kicking me out this whole time? However, I was reassured when George gave me a quick wink that went unnoticed by the others. Well, that was odd.

"And Julia, this is Brian Epstein." George finished introducing me, and I shook hands with the legend. We all talked for a bit while we ate and I found that Brian Epstein was more down-to-earth than I had originally imagined him to be. After a while, Freddie, Julian, and Maureen left to go mingle, leaving just George and I. He leaned against the wall and I stood next to him, eating a piece of turkey.

"Sorry about earlier, by the way," said George. "I just didn't want them to get the wrong impression."

"It's okay, I understand," I replied. "This is quite the party."

George grinned. "You've been star-struck quite a few times tonight, haven't ya?"

"You could say that again," I said. "But I think I think I was able to keep myself under control, yeah?"

George smirked. "Really? 'Cause yer eyes went wide as saucers when you answered the door for Freddie."

"They did not!" I said back, laughing slightly.

"Oh yes they did. I saw 'em meself, I did," he remarked.

"Did you, now?" I asked. "Well, at least I kept my outbursts in check when meeting you guys."

"Yeah, fainting usually helps with that."

"Oh, shut it, you," I said, smiling. I looked around and observed everyone else, talking in clusters. Then, something caught my eye. In the back corner of the kitchen, Julian and Maureen were talking to each other rather closely, and they were laughing. Since I'd known Julian my whole life, I always knew when he liked a girl. He would lean into the conversation slightly, and tilt his head a bit sideways. And that was precisely what he was doing now.

"Looks like Julian and Maureen are hitting it off," I remarked, smiling at my best friend and my new friend.

George looked at the place I was looking and smiled. "Hmm, it does, doesn't it?" he said. I finished eating and went to throw my plate away, and George went as well. We stood next to the trash bin talking for a while, occasionally being joined by someone else. At one point when we were alone, I must have said something funny because George threw his head back and laughed, but he kept his head up for a second longer than normal. I looked up to see what caused him to keep his head up there, and noticed that the mistletoe was directly above our heads.

"Hey, look! George and Julia are underneath the mistletoe!" shouted Keith. Most of the party turned to look at us. I looked at George and froze. George raised his eyebrows slightly and grinned a little, as if asking for my permission.

"Um…uhh….I-I have to use the toilet," I stammered, and then I ran up the stairs and into my bedroom, leaving George standing underneath the mistletoe.

In my room, I flung myself onto the bed as tears threatened to escape my eyes. Why did I have to be like that? Why couldn't I just kiss George like a normal person? I hated myself for getting nervous; I knew I was never comfortable in front of crowds. Stupid Keith for pointing out the mistletoe in the first place. I felt horrible now. Not only did I embarrass myself, but I probably embarrassed George to no end as well, just leaving him standing there like that. Then, I heard my door creak open slowly.

"Julia?" It was George. Suddenly I heard more footsteps and Julian came running past George and into my room. He nearly collided with the bed.

"Julia, are you okay?" he asked. I laughed at his antics.

"It's okay, Julian, I'm fine," I answered. "I just need to talk to George." George, who was still standing in the doorway, looked around a bit awkwardly.

"Alright. But you'd better tell me everything!" said Julian, making me smile again. He always knew how to cheer me up.

"Of course, Julian," I said. He smiled and walked towards the door, where he nodded encouragingly at George. George walked in and sat down next to me on the bed. I wasn't sure what exactly to say to him after that whole ordeal, but he didn't say anything. He just sat next to me, creating a comfortable silence between the two of us. I turned my head to look at him.

"I'm sorry, George." He put an arm around me.

"It's okay, Julia, don't worry about it."

"It's just-it's not that I didn't want to kiss you or anything but I just got really nervous with everyone standing there and I've always gotten nervous in front of crowds and it wasn't that I was embarrassed but I don't know what happened and I…" I was silenced, for George began to lean in. My heart stopped as he cupped my face in his warm hands. I started to lean in as well, and after what seemed like an eternity, our lips met in the middle. His lips were softer than I'd ever imagined, and he tasted like Coca Cola and cigarettes. Although one may think this to be an unpleasant taste, it was actually rather wonderful.

The kiss did not last particularly long, although it was certainly the best first kiss I could ever have asked for. We broke apart and I smiled shyly while looking into his eyes. He smiled widely, and he put his arm around me. We sat on my bed for the next half hour, just talking. Unfortunately, it was nearing midnight and guests were beginning to leave, so we decided to head downstairs to say goodnight to everyone. Linda gave me her phone number, saying that we should get together sometime. Maureen did the same, and then she spent an extra minute saying goodbye to Julian. She was the last to leave, but not before Julian gave her a quick, but noticeable (at least by me), kiss on the cheek.

Smiling to myself, I went upstairs to get into my pajamas and then I laid on my bed. I heard a knock on the door.

"Come in," I said. In walked George, in flannel pajama pants and a white t-shirt. He sat on my bed and leaned down to give me a quick kiss on the lips. Then he lay down next to me and took my hands in his.

"Will you be my girl?" he asked, a hopeful smile lighting up his face in the dark room.

I smiled widely. "Yes." Then he kissed me on the lips, this time more passionately than last time. I leaned into the kiss as fireworks went off in my head. After we broke the kiss, George smiled.

"I've been waiting to do that for a while now," he said.

I giggled. "Me, too," I admitted. Too tired to walk back to his room, George stayed in my bed and fell asleep, me not long after. His arms wrapped around my waist (which, I have to say, was the best feeling in the world), and we fell asleep as a couple.


End file.
